Lily Knows
by sapphyredragon-rn
Summary: Lily has a premonition of what is to come and takes steps to ensure Harry's care. Watch as Harry grows up with a half-blood Slytherin mother and muggle father. Will be canon-esque, Will feature Independent!Harry and possible Manipulative!Dumbldore later. Rating T to be safe for future chapters
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter and anything you recognize is not mine. It all belongs to JK._

_AN: This is my first fic, I've been reading them for ages now and this story has been knocking around in my brain for a while. I have the basic skeleton of the story written out, but suggestions are welcome. Flames will be used to toast marshmallows for S'mores._

o 0 o

"_Stand aside you stupid girl. Avada Kedavra."_

Lily Potter sat bolt upright, breathing as though she had just run a marathon. This was the third time this week that she had been woken by that particular dream. "Tempus," Lily whispered. Smoky letters glowed in front of her face, 3:14 a.m. October 12, 1981. She glanced over at her husband, James, whose deep sleep appeared not to have been disturbed by her desperate lunge to consciousness. James lay facing her, his face deceptively calm, lacking the worry lines that, recently, had plagued his waking hours. His arm rested on her waist, hand curled protectively around her hip bone and his usually artfully mussed raven hair stuck out at wild angles. Lily had a feeling that this dream was not your general garden variety nightmare, and as she lay back down and stared at the ceiling she began to plan. There was no telling how much longer she had on this earth and she needed to make sure that there were contingency plans in place for the care of her 15-month-old son.

o 0 o

Lily looked at the parchment in her hand, it lacked much in the way of substance, but what words were written made her breathe a little easier:

_Lily, _

_Of course I will._

_Stephanie_

Over the past week, Lily had been examining her dreams from all angles. Dreams which had expanded to include the disturbing image of Albus Dumbledore leaving her baby on the doorstep of her sisters house with nothing but a note. In the dreams, Harry did not look much older than he did now, which lead Lily to believe that if her premonitions were true that she and James would be among the dearly departed sooner rather than later. Loathe though she was to admit defeat, Lily had begun making arrangements for her sons care and protection after her death. Now that she had a skeleton of a plan, she needed to contact Petunia.

o 0 o

Petunia Dursley was scrubbing the counters of her already pristine kitchen, she had just put her perfect little angel down for his nap and was now endeavoring to make her home fit for the important company her husband was bringing home with him that evening.

_Tink. _Petunia cocked her head, the mail had already been delivered, so what had been slipped into her mail slot? Petunia curiously, and cautiously, walked around the corner into the entry way. She had a curious sense of foreboding about whatever had just been delivered. Petunia picked up the letter that was sitting innocently on her welcome mat and began to tremble slightly. She knew that handwriting, although she had not seen it for some years. It belonged to her sister.

Petunia sat down at her kitchen table with a thump, staring at the letter as though it might explode. Then, nodding to herself, she grabbed the letter and made to toss it in the garbage bin, unopened. To her distress, the letter floated out of the bin and began _talking_ to her in her sisters voice.

"_Tuney, I know how much magic makes you uncomfortable, so I've charmed this letter to talk to you ONLY if you attempt to pitch it unread. I wouldn't be bothering you but this is a life-and-death situation. _

"_I've told you about the madman who has been going around trying to take over the wizarding world, remember? Well, James and I have been targeted personally. You remember when we were kids how I could sense when bad things were going to happen? Well, I've been having a recurring dream where the madman finds us and kills James and I. I don't know how, but it seems that our son will survive the attack. However, I keep seeing him dropped at your house in the middle of the night._

"_Perhaps this premonition is simply the act of an overwrought and highly stressed mind, but I wanted to put some plans into place for Harry's protection if they're not. If, one morning, you awaken to find my son on your doorstep, please PLEASE don't take him into your house. I won't worry you with specifics, but if he crosses your threshold, he may never be able to leave. Go to a restaurant and call the US embassy, ask for Stephanie Grey. She will take him and raise him._

"_Thank you so much, Tuney. I love you. Lily."_

With that, the letter drifted back into the bin. Petunia glared at the letter and scoffed. As if anything that had to do with the world that had stolen her sister could effect her.

o 0 o

Stephanie Grey was sitting at her desk filing paperwork for her husband Marshall, the US ambassador currently stationed in London, England. However, at the end of the year the couple were being transferred to Japan and Stephanie was getting all in order for her successor. Stephanie sighed and got up to look out the window of her office, focusing on her reflection. A pretty, young blonde with wavy waist length hair and sea green eyes looked back at her.

Looking at herself, Stephanie appeared to be nothing more or less than a typical muggle secretary. But Stephanie was as far from normal as possible. Stephanie was a fully qualified half-blood witch, having completed her training at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry five years previously. In school, Stephanie had been sorted into Slytherin and had two best friends for the greater part of her education: Severus Snape and Lily Evans. She and Lily had remained close even after Severus' amazing faux pas in their fifth year.

Upon graduation, Stephanie discovered that the British wizarding world was really not that safe a place for a former Slytherin who had no interest in blood politics, so she , like a good Slytherin, retreated to the American wizarding world where Voldemort had not reached. She had happily stayed away from all things British until two years ago when she, quite literally ran into her now husband.

Marshall had been home in America on vacation from his post as the US ambassador to the UK when the car he was driving was rear ended by a very embarrassed Stephanie. Although she was quite obviously younger than Marshall's 32 years, he was instantly drawn to her and now, three years later they were getting ready to celebrate their second wedding anniversary.

Even though Stephanie had been back in England for almost two years, she had not revived any contact with the wizarding world, satisfying herself with trips to the continent for any magical needs. But now, it seemed, the wizarding world had found her. Stephanie remembered the hastily scribbled note she had received a week earlier from her old best friend. It merely stated that Lily had a premonition that she and James were going to die and would Stephanie be so kind as to raise Harry for her? How Lily had found her at the US Embassy was a mystery to Stephanie, one she assumed that she would never solve. Naturally, Stephanie answered Lily in the affirmative after discussing the matter with her husband.

Stephanie was abruptly pulled from her musing by a tapping on the window at her elbow. The nondescript brown owl swooped into the room dropping the letter held in its beak and immediately leaving the way it had entered. She walked over to her desk and opened the scroll only to discover a very cryptic note from Lily.

_Stephanie, _

_October 27, 1981 _

_How is married life treating you? James and I have been married for four years now. I wish you could have come. Do you remember our catch phrase in school? I think I'm losing it._

_Lily_

Stephanie cocked her head at the note that didn't take up more than ¼ of the parchment it was written on and then grinned. Flicking her wrist and dropping her wand into her hand, she tapped the parchment and said, "Of all the Slytherin tendencies to have." Suddenly the letter was much longer and made much more sense.

_Stephanie, _

_I know that you'll figure this out, it's not actually that ingenious, but no one knew our phrase except for us. Anyhow, on to business. I don't know how much you've kept up on the different elements of our society, but it's going badly for the good guys right now. James is an auror and I'm a charms mistress. As if that weren't enough to get us targeted, apparently there's a prophesy that concerns Harry, the details of which I am not privy to. Voldemort has heard it and is now after us harder than before. _

_James and I are currently in hiding under a Fidelus Charm with Peter as the secret keeper. Sirius would have been the obvious choice, so he's acting as a decoy. That said, if my premonition comes true something has failed epically. James trusts Dumbledore explicitly, as you well know, but I've been having doubts about his sincerity recently. We have, on multiple occasions expressed that under no circumstances is Harry to be put with my muggle sister. She is ill equipped to handle as powerful a child as Harry will be. However, that is where you will find him after our deaths. I'm sure of it, placed there by Dumbledore himself._

_Now, on to more interesting things that you will need to know when raising Harry. Harry has several bonds on his power at this point, this is because until he is old enough to express himself there is the very real chance that he could blow up the house in a temper if his power were left unbound. As such, we had the goblins bind him as their bonds are much safer than some wizard ones, and I trust them more to not sell the information. Harry is also a metamorphmagus, these powers are bound as well—this more to keep anyone from knowing, I let my hidden inner Slytherin out to play. _

_Now, on to my desires for Harry's upbringing. Simply love him as your own, have your husband teach him the delicate workings of the political beast, and train him up to be the leader I have a feeling he is meant to be. I want him to be able to defend himself—the prophesy is about Harry, not James and I. I know you will do right by me._

_Lastly, Petunia Dursley, my sister. I've written her a letter which details what to do if Harry should materialize on her doorstep in the future. I told her to not enter the house with him and call you immediately. I've enclosed in this letter a prepaid credit card that has 500,000 pounds on it that is to be used for their relocation. Tell them not to take anything that can be replaced._

_All my love,_

_Lily_

Stephanie smiled sadly at the letter and tucked it and the credit card into her purse before closing her office and locking it for the night. She hoped the Lily's premonition was wrong, but began making preparations for the likelihood that it wasn't.


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine._

_A.N.: Thanks for the reviews. Not all my posts will be this quick, but I will attempt to keep them fairly regular. More reviews = faster postings, though. Chapters will get longer as I go on, but for now I'm just trying to get back into the swing of writing for fun._

_Katzztar: Don't worry, I have plans for Sirius._

_April Dawn Irene: I hadn't even realized I'd done that. Thanks for pointing it out. Such bloopers evidence my need for a beta._

o 0 o

Stephanie sighed as she waited for the coffee to finish perking, closing her eyes and hoping that the head ache, complements of last night's Halloween celebration, would soon fade and thanking Merlin that it was a Sunday. She smiled as Marshall drowsily stumbled into the kitchen, holding his head in his hands. While it was true that as a witch, Stephanie could probably whip up a hangover cure (or rather should have done before the party last night); however, unlike Lily and Severus potions had never been her forte. Additionally, such a cure would not have worked for Marshall as potions draw on ones own innate magic to work and Stephanie felt that if her husband were suffering then it was the least she could do to suffer with him. Therefore it was understandable that she did not initially recognize the odd sight of owls flying during daylight hours as the precursor of the event she had been both anticipating and dreading.

Once half the pot of coffee had been consumed both Stephanie and Marshall set forth to put the finishing touches on their remaining paperwork. This week would be their last at the US Embassy, Brittan. Next week they were heading home to America for six weeks before taking up their post at the US Embassy in Japan. Stephanie had decided that, if Petunia Dursley had not contacted her by weeks end, she would simply look the woman up herself and leave her contact information.

o 0 o

By Tuesday night, Stephanie was wondering if she shouldn't search out Petunia Dursley sooner rather than later. Owls had been spotted in droves during the day all week, even the news reporters were beginning to comment on this unusual phenomena. Stephanie, having an inkling of what this obvious breach of the Statute of Secrecy could mean, had slipped into the Leaky Cauldron that afternoon intending to purchase a copy of the Daily Prophet to see what all the commotion was about. She needn't have bothered. The interior of the bar was a jovial atmosphere, and patrons were discussing the events of the previous weekend, loudly.

o 0 o

"Three cheers for Parry Hotter!" one man in the back corner of the bar slurred. Although it obviously was not the first time this particular toast had been made, the surrounding wizards and witches all cheered raucously and raised their glasses.

Stephanie sidled up to the bar, ordered a butterbeer and pulled out her dusty Slytherin tendencies. Allowing the drunken wizards to fade into so much white noise, she focused her attention on a quiet, sober conversation taking place behind her.

"...be-named is really gone?"

"That's what they're saying. Strongest wizard in the world, my arse." The second speaker scoffed, "Beaten by a child still in nappies."

"What's to happen to the child?"

Just then a group of wizards came tumbling into the bar, loudly singing bawdy songs about the triumph of the "Boy-who-Lived" and breaking Stephanie's concentration. No matter, she had the answers that she needed. If Petunia Dursley had not contacted her by noon tomorrow, she would take matters into her own hands. If Stephanie had stayed for five more minutes, she would have heard those same wizards discussing "that vile Sirius Black" and how he had betrayed his best friend to his death. Unfortunately, she did not and would not be made aware of this "fact" for several years to come.

Wednesday, November 4, 1981, started out like any other day for one Petunia Dursley. She got up before the rest of the family and headed into the kitchen to prepare breakfast, set the tea kettle to boiling and went to retrieve the newspaper from the front gate where the lazy paperboy always left it. Petunia opened the front door and jumped back with a suppressed shriek. There, on her front porch, was a moses basket. Inside that moses basket was a pale blue blanket, the corner embroidered with a stylized "HP", a tuft of black hair erupting from one end and a suspicious looking letter written on what Petunia recognized as parchment similar to that of Lily's letter from a few weeks prior. The handwriting, however, was not that of her sister.

Remembering the ominous tone of Lily's letter, Petunia skirted around the edge of the basket, making sure not to touch it and hurried out to retrieve the day's newspaper. She returned to the kitchen, set the paper at Vernon's place at the table and swiftly headed upstairs. She needed to get that child away from her house quickly and quietly.

"Vernon." Petunia whispered.

Vernon grunted and looked blearily up at his wife, Petunia took this as acknowledgement.

"Vernon, the kettle's on, but we've run out of bacon. I'm off to the store. I will be back shortly."

Vernon grunted again and Petunia left the room, snagging the car keys as she went. Silently hoping that none of the neighbors had seen the abomination on her doorstep.

Petunia grabbed a short length of rope out of the garage and pulled the car out to the curb. She had no idea what exactly those freaks considered a "threshold" but she was not going to voluntarily set that child down anywhere on her property, nephew or no. Quickly returning to her front porch, Petunia carefully threaded the rope through the handles of the moses basket, ensuring that no part of her body came into contact with any part of the child or his carrier and, holding it as far away from her as possible, set the basket in the back seat of the car.

Petunia pulled into the local petrol station and up to the car-side pay phone and dialed.

"United States Embassy, how may I direct your call?"

"I need to speak to a Stephanie Grey," Petunia said, with a small moue of disgust.

"One moment please, I'll see if she is available," the insufferably _American_ voice on the other end of the line intoned. There was a soft click and Petunia was relegated to listening to sickeningly tinkling music for some minutes.

Just as Petunia was ready to throw the phone, thinking she was being ignored, there was another soft click and a voice came on the line, "This is Stephanie Grey, how may I help you?"

Petunia huffed, "This is Petunia Dursley, I have something for you and I would appreciate it if you would come collect it post haste."

Stephanie sat up straighter, finally the woman had contacted her. "Mrs. Dursley, where do you want me to meet and when?"

"The car park of the Anglican Church in Little Whinging, Surrey. How long will it take you to get here?" Petunia snapped, glancing at the car park across the street.

"I can be there in five minutes Mrs. Dursley."

Petunia shuddered at the reminder of the unnaturalness of the world that had taken her sister's life. It should be a half hours drive, in good traffic, to get to London's center. "Fine, be quick about it." Petunia snarled, and dropped the phone into it's cradle.

In London, Stephanie rushed into her husband's office, "It's time, I'm going to pick him up and heading home. I'll be back around lunch." Marshall nodded and she turned and virtually sprinted from the building. Petunia Dursley had not sounded like the kind of person that she wanted to leave her new son with for any length of time.

With a snap, Stephanie materialized at the end of an alley two blocks from the church Mrs. Dursley had mentioned and swiftly made her way to the expensive looking car idling in the lot.

Mrs. Dursley stepped out of the car and opened the back door, a put upon expression on her face. "There he is, I haven't touched him or the basket. Who knows what kinds of hocus pocus your kind put on it, and I won't have it soiling me. Take him and go."

Stephanie stepped up to the car cast a silent _finite, _and reached in, withdrawing the moses basket and sleeping child. "Mrs. Dursley, I thank you for giving him to me. Your sister left something in my care for you," Stephanie reached into her purse and pulled out the credit card that Lily had sent her. "This card has a substantial amount of money on it. It is to allow you and your family to relocate. There is enough on here to purchase and furnish a new home quite comfortably," Stephanie paused, and seeing the hungry look on Mrs. Dursley's face, continued, "there are spells on this card that can tell if it has been used for its intended purpose, and if it is not the funds will be reclaimed, with interest" (although there were no such spells in existence.) "You are instructed to leave, taking only those things that cannot be replaced with you. The wizarding world, quite obviously knows where you live and, if you value your magic-free life, you will comply with you sister's last bequest." Stephanie finished, thinking—and rightfully so—that the thought that a wizard could just show up on her doorstep would be enough to induce Mrs. Dursley into taking her family and relocating.

Mrs. Dursley held out her hand, "I wonder exactly how much my sister felt was 'enough' to uproot my family's entire life?" she said snidely.

Stephanie raised an eyebrow, "500,000 pounds." Mrs. Dursley choked, "Is that sufficient?"

Mrs. Dursley recovered herself and snatched the credit card, "It will do. Goodbye." With that, Mrs. Dursley jumped into her car and took off, leaving Stephanie and Harry standing in the car park of the church.

Stephanie reached into the moses basket and pulled out the baby, who had yet to stir despite the commotion around him. Sleepy emerald eyes opened and looked into serene sea green ones. "Hello, Harry. I'm Stephanie and I'm going to take you to my home now, OK?" Stephanie wasn't sure how linguistically developed Harry was, but decided that he was old enough to understand her.

"Home?" Harry said. He then promptly stuck his thumb into his mouth and fell back asleep on her shoulder.

Stephanie smiled at him, glanced around to make sure she was not witnessed, levitated the letter that was in the basket into a conjured clear plastic bag and banished the basket. She then walked around to the far side of the church, checked for muggle presence and with a snap, Harry Potter left Little Whinging for good.


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: It's not mine._

o 0 o

Stephanie looked around her office one last time, ensuring she hadn't forgotten anything. She snapped off the light, picked up Harry from where he was being cooed at by her secretary and left the office for the last time.

"Marshall, I want to take Harry to Gringotts before we leave. Lily mentioned that there are some bonds on Harry that were placed by the goblins and I want to get the details, as well as make sure that Harry's inheritance will be taken care of until he is of age." Stephanie glanced over at her husband as they were leaving the US Embassy.

"That's fine, Steph, we can head over there now." Marshall grinned, "and perhaps you can take me somewhere wizarding for dinner." Marshall had always been enthralled by anything magical, taking every opportunity to have Stephanie show him something new and amazing.

Stephanie smiled at her husband fondly, "Sure, honey, we'll find somewhere out of the way and have wizards fare for dinner." Stephanie glanced down at the sleeping Harry in her arms, "Well, son, we're off to see some goblins."

o 0 o

Stephanie, Marshall and Harry stepped into the Leaky Cauldron, a blanket covering Harry, protecting him from prying eyes. The bar was not as busy as it had been when Stephanie had been in the previous Tuesday, but there were still quite a few patrons continuing to celebrate the downfall of you-know-who and toast the Boy-who-Lived. The couple hurried through the bar, and Stephanie tapped the bricks revealing the entry to Diagon Alley. Marshall gazed around in amazement at the sights revealed. Although they had been living in muggle London for years, this was the first time that Stephanie had taken Marshall into wizarding London.

The Alley was bustling with activity, and Stephanie made quick work to get to Gringotts, dragging her amazed husband with her. The interior of Gringotts was hushed, Stephanie's heels clicked and echoed around the cavernous white marble interior of the bank. She clicked her way over to an available goblin and waited patiently until the goblin acknowledged her.

"I would like to speak to someone about my ward's finances."

The goblin bared his teeth in a macabre parody of a smile, "And you ward would be...?"

Stephanie glanced around and dropped her voice, "Harry Potter."

The goblin glanced at her, then at the child she held. "One moment, I will see if Ironclaw is available to speak to you." The goblin disappeared behind the desk, leaving Stephanie and Marshall to await the goblin's pleasure.

Ten minutes later, a different goblin appeared at their side, "Madam, Ironclaw will see you now. You will follow me." The goblin turned abruptly and lead Stephanie, Marshall and Harry through a nondescript door and down a hallway to an ornate door. Stephanie was unsure, but she thought that the goblins were being a little more accommodating than usual. The goblin opened the door and ushered the Greys into the office that was prominently occupied by an imposing desk and ornate chair. "You will wait here. Ironclaw will be with you in a moment."

Stephanie and Marshall sat down in the chairs facing the desk, Harry looking around with big green eyes and his thumb firmly placed in his mouth. A moment later, the doors opened again and a goblin entered, sitting behind the desk. "What can Gringotts do for you today, madam?" The goblin asked after an assessing glance at the couple, apparently dismissing Marshall as unimportant.

"My name is Stephanie Grey, this is my husband Marshall. Lily Potter sent me a letter shortly before her death, asking me to care for and raise Harry should anything happen to she and James. Harry came into my care a few days ago. Lily's letter also mentioned that Harry had some goblin bonds on his power and I wanted to find out exactly what those were, the limitations, if any, these bonds have and when I should expect to return to Gringotts to have them removed.

"Additionally, I would like an evaluation of little Harry to ensure that there are no lingering ill effects from the attack earlier this week. Lastly, I would like to ensure that Harry's inheritance will be well taken care of until he comes of age. My husband and I are leaving the British Isles, he is a muggle ambassador and we have been reassigned to Japan effective the beginning of the new year. I myself am not that good with investments and am fairly divorced from the wizarding world, and as such I would not be the best person to oversee Harry's finances."

The goblin eyed her for a moment, "Very well, Lady Grey. I am glad you saw fit to come in, we had actually sent out several owls to Lord Potter in your care, they all returned undeliverable. Lady Potter also saw fit to inform Gringotts of her arrangements, we received a letter from her only a few days before her death. In this letter, she specified that none but yourself should receive information about young Lord Potter's inheritance and disposition." The goblin retrieved a parchment from a drawer in his desk. "Lady Grey, before we go any further, I will need to confirm your identity. Simply place three drops of blood onto this parchment."

Stephanie eyed the parchment, took the proffered blade and pierced her thumb, swiftly placing three drops of blood onto the parchment before healing the cut. "Does this test do anything other than confirm my identity as Stephanie Grey?"

"Yes, Lady Grey, this is a heritage test, it will confirm your identity, but will also tell your ancestors." The goblin glanced down at the parchment. "It is confirmed, you are who you claim and Lord Potter is your rightful ward. Lady Grey, were you aware that you are descended from Salazar Slytherin? Not from his eldest son, so you have no claim on the Slytherin title, however you are descended from him just the same."

Stephanie grinned. "I was unaware of that, but it is fascinating news. Now, about the bonds on Harry?"

"Yes, as I was saying, Lady Potter sent a letter to us, included in this letter were two more letters, one each written by she and Lord Potter to be presented to young Lord Potter when he returns prior to his first year at Hogwarts. Additionally, he will receive his heir's ring at that time. The bonds that the Potters had placed on young Lord Potter are simple ones. The first being the bond on his magical powers, this bond does not cut off access to his magic, as young Lord Potter grows he will be able to feel his magic, and should you choose to teach him how to look inside at his core, he will be able to see all of his magic as well. What this bond does is limits the power that young Lord Potter can put behind any accidental—or intentional—magic he does. Simply put, his spells will not be as powerful as they would were his magic not bound.

"Other bonds placed by wizards actually cut off access to parts of the magical core which can lead to severe magical backlash when the bonds are removed if the wizard is powerful enough, or has enough magic bound. The bond that is currently in place on young Lord Potter makes his magical output approximately 45% of what it would be were he not bound. As he grows and his core matures, that percentage will not change. As to having the bond removed, I recommend that you return to Gringotts—any branch of Gringotts, not only the one here in London—periodically and have the bonds adjusted as young Lord Potter ages and obtains more control over himself so that when he attains school age the bonds will be entirely removed.

"The second bond that the Potters had placed on young Lord Potter was a binding on his metamorphmagus powers. We recommend this bond as a short term solution, as if the child does not have access to these powers, he will not learn to control them. Lord and Lady Potter expressed the desire for this particular power to not be revealed to the general public and I feel that, especially as you are leaving Brittan, removing that bond today is recommended.

"Nextly, as to young Lord Potter's inheritance. The main Potter vaults have been sealed and will remain so until young Lord Potter reaches the age of fifteen. This is so he can have two years with a financial advisor prior to attaining his majority in which to learn how to manage the vaults himself. Until that time, I will be overseeing his current investments. I have been the goblin in charge of the Potter vaults for several generations now and I pride myself on the financial gains that the Potters have attained under my guidance. Currently, I receive 5% of any returns on investments in my charge. Any monies attained through the investments are either reinvested or placed into the main Potter vault.

"Young Lord Potter also has his trust vault, which is accessible to him at any time. I see that you have already made a withdrawal today, so I am sure you are aware of the extent of the holdings in that vault—"

"Wait, wait," Stephanie interrupted the goblin, "I do apologize, but we have not accessed any vaults today. Harry was left with his maternal aunt by, we assume, Albus Dumbledore. Fortunately, Lily had contacted her sister and told her to contact me if this did happen. She delivered Harry to me with only a blanket and a letter." Stephanie said, withdrawing the letter, still in it's plastic covering, from her handbag. "There was no vault key with him."

The goblin gave Stephanie a piercing gaze. "Very well, the amount withdrawn from the trust vault was not substantial, only 5,000 galleons, and as the key was used, there is no way to track who made the withdrawal." The goblin reached for another parchemnt and wrote something on it, placing it into a bin where it promptly disappeared. "All keys for all Potter vaults have been recalled and access has been removed to all but yourself with a blood test. Additionally, the keys for all Potter properties have been recalled. It appears that there are a few properties that are currently occupied, what is your wish for those occupying these properties?"

Stephanie considered, "How long have the properties been occupied for?"

"All properties that are currently occupied have been occupied for at least one year or more."

"Allow them to remain, it is likely that those in the properties were allowed by Lily and James. We have no need of the properties at present, so those living in them are welcome to stay. Are the properties rented, or are the families staying free of charge?"

"It appears that most are rentals, however one property, a small cottage that sits in the middle of 200 acres outside of Nice, is occupied by one Remus Lupin and there is no rental charge."

"He may stay, he was a friend and brother to James."

"Very good. Next, in her letter, Lord and Lady Potter expressed a desire for you to blood adopt young Lord Potter, if you so desire. This will protect both him and yourself from any outside interference into your custody of young Lord Potter. By blood adopting him, you will not be replacing any influence or inheritance from either the Lord or Lady Potter, but simply adding yourself into the mix. Now, while you consider this, let's make sure our young Lord Potter has no lingering effects from the attack." The goblin pulled another parchment from his desk drawer. "This will require three drops of young Lord Potter's blood."

Stephanie looked at Harry, who had been looking around the office in fascination. "Harry, we need to take a little blood from you, it will hurt for only a second, okay?"

Harry focused on Stephanie and then the goblin, "Owie?"

"Only a little one, love. Can I see your foot honey?"

Harry kicked a little foot, "Little owie?"

"Yes honey, little owie." Stephanie swiftly snagged Harry's little foot and the goblin almost painlessly retrieved the required blood. Harry had big tears in his eyes, and Stephanie quickly healed the hurt and cooed over the toddler. "See, all done Harry. That's my big boy, no more owie."

Harry sniffed, "No more owie?"

"No more owie, honey, all done." Marshall smiled.

The Grey's attention was caught by the growl of the goblin. "Is there a problem Ironclaw?"

"Not for long, Lady Grey. Young Lord Potter has had further bonds placed on him. This time a wizard bond that restricts his power to 25%, that particular bond, combined with the bonds currently on him would effectively make him a squib. And when the bond were removed, the magical backlash would be very dangerous for him. As this bond has been in place for a very short time, there will be no ill effects. There is a bond that is designed to restrict his attention span, this would effectively keep him from reaching his potential educationally, this will also be easy to remove. Also, there is a ward to redirect any owls sent to young Lord Potter, which, because of his recent conquest I assume there will be much fan mail. This particular ward will refuse any simple letter, however any gifts are redirected to Hogwarts School. This explains why our owls were unable to reach you earlier this week. I would advise leaving this ward alone, it is doing no harm, in fact it is helping. Because of this ward you will not be inundated with letters from fans and enemies alike. Lastly, there is a sliver of the fiend attached to young Lord Potter's scar. There is some sort of protective magic keeping the sliver of the fiend from interacting with young Lord Potter, however it should have been banished!

"This is indicative of a magic most foul. We had suspected that the fiend had dabbled in such magics, another sliver of his soul was found to be in an artifact that was stored in one of our vaults. It was, ofcourse, destroyed, however this means that the fiend is not gone for good."

"By 'fiend' you mean you-know-who, correct?" Stephanie shuddered. She had hoped that the prophesy had been fulfilled—what ever it said. Unfortunately, it appeared that Harry's destiny still awaited.

"Yes, naturally, we will remove the fiend from young Lord Potter, it also appears that the fiend is also siphoning a small amount of young Lord Potter's power to sustain itself. Now have you made a decision concerning the blood adoption?"

Stephanie looked at Marshall, he nodded. "Yes, I will, how do we do this? Will Marshall also be blood adopting Harry?"

"First we will remove the wizarding bonds and the fiend from young Lord Potter, then it is a simple potion that you will add your blood to and can be spelled into young Lord Potter's stomach. As to if Sir Grey will be adopting young Lord Potter as well, that is up to you. Come, follow me, we will retire to the ritual room to remove the bonds and the fiend."

Ironclaw guided Stephanie, Marshall and Harry deeper into the bank. They entered a circular room which had runes inscribed in a circle on the floor. "Sir Grey, if you will retire to the anteroom, nonessential persons cannot be in the room during the ritual as it might interfere. Lady Grey, if you will please sit in the center of the circle with young Lord Potter facing outward."

Once Marshall had left the room, and Stephanie and Harry were in their places, the goblin continued, "Now, this should not hurt, but it may tickle a bit." With that, the goblins that were in the room began chanting. At first nothing happened, but then, after a minute of goblin chanting there was an unearthly scream and a black mist poured from Harry's scar. Harry sat, startled and staring at the black mist. Suddenly, with a screech, the mist imploded and Harry began sniffling.

"All finished," Ironclaw said as he came back over to the startled duo. "The fiend's sliver has been permanently banished. Now, for the blood adoption. Come, follow me." Ironclaw, Stephanie and Harry joined Marshall in the anteroom where another goblin waited with a vial. "This is the blood adoption potion, Sir Grey, will you also be adopting young Lord Potter?" Ironclaw looked questioningly at Marshall.

"Most definitely." Marshall affirmed.

"Well, then, please add seven drops of blood to the potion please, Lady Grey, you as well." Once both parents had added their blood to the vial, Ironclaw waved his hand and the potion disappeared. "As young Lord Potter is so young, you may not see any immediate physical effects, but if there are to be any they should be visible in about two minutes."

Once two minutes had passed, Stephanie examined Harry. There were only slight visible changes, Harry's eyes, once the deep forest green of emeralds, were now a few shades lighter, though not as light as her own sea green ones. Additionally, Harry's hair, which previously had stuck up at all angles, despite all intervention, and was a deep brown was now the deep almost purple black of Marshall's hair and as sleek as a raven's wing. Harry looked deep into Marshall's eyes and then giggled and his hair changed to a brilliant neon green.

Marshall smiled at his son, "Come on son, let's go home." He looked at the goblins, "We will be in touch, most likely with the branch in Tokyo."

"Very good, Sir Grey, Lady Grey, Lord Potter-Grey. May your gold always flow." Ironclaw said as he escorted the Greys to the entrance hall of the bank.

Stephanie nodded back, "May your enemies fall before you." With that the Greys walked out of the bank into the twilight of the Alley. "Marshall, do you mind if we skip the wizarding fare tonight? It's quite late and Harry here is quite tired, that took quite a bit longer than I expected. Additionally, I'm worried about someone recognizing Harry's scar, it seems that it is quite famous."

"That's fine, Steph, but I expect wizards fare when we get home to America, deal? We should get home and to bed, our flight home leaves first thing in the morning. How are we going to keep regular muggles from noticing Harry, though?" Marshall waved his hand at Harry who was now sporting neon pink hair.

Stephanie laughed. "I'll cast a glamor on him so his hair will appear his natural raven black."

Marshall smiled, "Very well, dear, let's get home."


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: Not mine._

_JTFLAM: I wondered if anyone would catch that. The short of the reason is that J.K. has Harry arriving at the Dursleys on a Wednesday. Halloween 1981 fell on a Saturday. Therefore there must be a lapse between when the Potters died and Harry arrived at the Dursleys. The binds are my explanation, I don't know what J.K.'s is._

_A.N.: Reading is good, Reviewing is awesome. Harry's younger years will probably take up 3 or 4 chapters, I'm just going to hit on the important parts, magically or to the story, of his childhood before Hogwarts. Sorry I took so long, my car breathed its last and I've spent a good portion of the week trying to work all that out. Additionally, I had to do my homework for the story so I do Japan justice, mundane locations are real._

o 0 o

"...100, ready or not, here I come!"

Two year old Harry Potter-Grey giggled softly and looked around frantically for a good hiding spot. Jun was a very good looker and always found him fast when they played kakurenbo1. This time Harry wanted to be the last caught. Or better yet, not caught at all. On second thought, Harry considered, if no one ever found him he wouldn't know when it was time for snacks. So, last caught was the goal. Glancing up, Harry found the perfect hiding place in the crook of a tree, its leaves almost obscuring the crook from sight. Harry reached up to try and climb the tree but the branches were too high, he jumped but was still unable to get a hold on the branch. Now Harry was frustrated, he just wanted to get up in that crook so he could win for once, he wanted up in that tree _now!_

Suddenly, Harry was sitting in the tree. He grabbed the branch tightly, it was much scarier up here than he'd thought it would be. How had he gotten up here, he wondered. Perhaps this was some of the onmyoudou that Satou-sensei could do. He had always been told that he was magical and that when he got older he would be able to do magic just like his mummy, but this was the first time he could remember doing anything that didn't involve changing his hair color. Mummy said that changing his hair, and body when he got older and had more control, was a special gift and a different kind of magic than what mummy and Satou-sensei used.

"Harry-kun, where are you?" A floated to him on the wind, Harry giggled softly, for a moment forgetting his little predicament. "Harry-kun, you can't hide from me, I'll find you!" The voice was closer now, and Harry looked down and saw the dark head of 8-year-old Tanaka Jun circling around the tree trunk below him. Not finding Harry, Jun wandered off to search over by the rock pile.

Harry smiled and settled more comfortably in to his crook to wait to be found. Even though he couldn't get down by himself, he knew that Satou-sensei could get him down. Fifteen minutes went by and Harry could hear the other children laughing over by the rock pile. Again, Jun's voice floated over to him.

"I'm not sure where Harry-kun could be. He's the only one I haven't found, and I've checked all his usual hiding spots, as well as any where else he could get."

"Let's all look for him, then. He's the last that means that he wins." Harry heard 6-year-old Saitou Takahiro suggest. Unable to help himself Harry laughed out loud. He had won, finally! "Shh! I hear him!"

"Harry-kun, where are you!" This time it was 10-year-old Hou Momko, she was one of Harry's favorite. She always read him a story when it was nap time.

Harry laughed, "Can't find me! I win!"

The group of children slowly drifted to where they thought Harry's voice was coming from and spread out looking in the bushes around the base of the tree. Harry giggled again, all the children looked around except Harry's bestest friend in the whole world Watanabe Ryouta, he looked up.

"Harry-kun is in the tree!" Ryouta cried.

Momko glanced up sharply. "Harry-kun, how did you get up in that tree?"

"Don't know, but I win!"

Jun laughed, "Yes you do, Harry-kun. Can you get down or do I need to get Satou-sensei?"

Harry blushed, "Satou-sensei, te kudasai2."

Momko was already heading to where Satou-sensei was sitting on a blanket playing with the youngest of their small group, nine-month-old Takahashi Ayaka, she of the flaming red hair. Satou-sensei glanced down at the group surrounding the tree trunk, handed Ayaka to Momko and headed over to the small circle of children.

Satou-sensei looked up at Harry in his hiding place almost a meter over her head. "Harry-kun, I'm going to have to levitate you down." She flicked her wand at Harry and he slowly drifted out of his crook and down to the grass. Once Harry was back on the ground, Satou-sensei looked at him sternly, "Now, Harry-kun, would you care to tell me how you got up into that tree?"

Harry looked down at his feet and mumbled, "..."

Satou-sensei squatted down so she was on Harry's level, "Harry-kun, do not mumble when you answer a question. When you are asked something you always stand straight and answer clearly and in a respectful tone. Now, I will ask you again, how did you get up in that tree?"

Harry kicked his feet, he knew that he was probably in trouble, but he needed to answer Satou-sensei. Summoning his courage, Harry straightened his shoulders and looked up at Satou-sensei then answered rapidly before his courage failed him, "I don't know, Satou-sama, we were playing kakurenbo and Jun-kun is a very good looker so I had to have a good hiding place and I couldn't find one and then I saw the crook of the tree but I couldn't reach it so I tried to jump but I still couldn't reach it and I really wanted to get up there because then I would win and then I was up there! I don't know how. Honest, Satou-sensei, I really don't!"

Satou-sensei laughed gently, "Breathe, Harry-kun. You are not in trouble, it sounds as if you have done guzen no maho3, it looks as though you may have apparated. This is very strong magikku for someone your age. We will have to tell your mother when she picks you up; but for now, it is time for snacks and then nap time for you young ones, and homework time for the older."

o 0 o

Stephanie sighed, another work day done and now it was time to go pick up Harry from Mahono Deikea, a small daycare for magical children run by Satou Asako. Satou Asako was an older witch who had tragically lost her husband and young son many years ago. To help her move on from her loss, and give her something to do, Satou Asako had opened a small daycare. There were only seven children that Satou Asako cared for, including Harry; although Harry was only there three days per week. Fortunately, the English war was not well known here in Japan, so it was unlikely that Harry's name would be recognized and his location reported to less than desirable persons.

Although Stephanie had hesitated at the thought of going to work after she and Marshall had adopted Harry almost one year earlier, Marshall had pointed out that it would be good for Harry to interact with children his own age, and a Japanese daycare would help him learn about the Japanese culture and language. Indeed, almost 10 months after moving to Tokyo, Harry was speaking Japanese like he was born to it.

Stephanie hurried down the street to the nearest apparition point and with a crack she appeared outside the wards at the end of the drive of the home of Satou Asako where she ran Mahono Deikea. The house sat at the end of a kilometer long driveway edged by cherry trees that were, with the aid of magic, perpetually in bloom. The house itself was a moderate sized building that contained a very large living room which was where the children played on poor weather days, when the weather was nice, however, the children would be found any number of places in the back garden, playing any number of games that their minds have come up with. The entire property covered 2 square kilometers and was protected by wards that not only kept those not keyed to the wards out, but also kept the children in unless they were accompanied by their parent.

Stephanie smile as she saw Harry running around on his chubby legs chasing one of the older children and being chased by Watanabe Ryouta, who had fast become Harry's best friend since moving to Tokyo. Harry's hair was cycling through colors in his excitement, at two he was only able to control his metamorphmagus abilities when he was calm. Although, Stephanie had hope that he would have complete control by the time he turned four. Harry was a fast learner and, when he was not at the daycare with children his own age, was quite solemn. Not for the first time since struggling with the decision to put Harry in daycare, Stephanie thought it was good for him that he could come somewhere that he could act his own age.

"Ah, Stephanie-san, is it that time already? I must speak to you for a moment before you go." Satou-sama said after waving her wand and casting a translation charm. The charm would allow her to speak in Japanese but Stephanie heard her in English. It also worked in reverse, anything Stephanie said would be heard in Japanese by Satou-sama. She only used it when speaking to Stephanie or Marshall, however, she felt that Harry should be spoken to in Japanese when in Japan. It was greatly due to her efforts to make sure Harry could speak Japanese that he was now fluent—well, as fluent as a two year old can be.

"What has Harry done today?" Stephanie rolled her eyes, Harry was forever doing something sneaky and getting caught. His ideas were usually Slytherin-worthy, but his enactment of those plans were usually very Gryffindor, she hoped to teach him some subtlety when he was older. Not too soon, mind, because then he'd likely get away with murder.

"Today the children were playing hide-and-seek and Harry-kun decided that he wanted to hide up in a tree. Come, let me show you where the children found Harry-kun." Satou-sama motioned her over to a large Japanese Maple tree. "That crook is where we found Harry-kun. Actually, the children would never have found him except that he couldn't keep from laughing." Satou-sama smiled.

Stephanie gaped, the crook was at least two meters off the ground. She could probably climb up there herself if she really put her mind to it, but for her two-year-old son to manage it, "How, exactly, did Harry manage that?"

"He says that he just really, really wanted to be in that crook and then he was. It is very strong accidental magic that your son has done."

"Wow." Stephanie glanced from where Harry was now sitting on the older boy and tickling him, assisted by Ryouta. "Well, do you have any suggestions for him? Or shall we carry on as we have been?" Satou-sama had been dealing with children and accidental magic almost as long as Stephanie had been alive, and she usually had some parenting tip for any difficulty that arose with any of "her" children.

"If he were older, I would suggest that he meditate and look inwards to find his magical center. This will help him better control his magic. However, as he is as young as he is, I don't know if he has the patience required to find his center yet. It is quite a process to find it, but once found it is easy to return to. For now, I would suggest that you simply talk to him about how it happened and what he did."

"Alright, how old do you think he should be before he tries the meditation thing?" Stephanie asked. Finding ones magical center was not something that she had ever been taught, "Is it something that I could do as well, or does it only work for untrained children? I've never heard of this particular technique."

"It is a technique used in the old days, I suspect that the west has forgotten it. In the old days, we did not have wands. In order to perform any kind of magic, the old ones had to first find their core and then connect to it. To answer your question, it is not only for untrained children. However, it is easier for them, as they are not used to the wand summoning their magic for them. What you will need to do is find a quiet place and still your mind. Once your mind is still take up your wand and cast a spell—any spell will do. Feel your magic rise up and complete the spell. Then you follow the paths that your magic took back to the center. Immerse yourself in it, become familiar with how it feels." Satou-sama smiled. "It may take a few tries to be successful, and will likely take hours once you are. Make sure that you have plenty of time available without distractions."

"Thank you Satou-sensei. I will try what you have suggested, I think you are right and Harry is probably too young for this technique, however we will be using it as soon as he is ready, I think." Stephanie bowed and turned to where Harry was playing, "Harry, come on son, it's time to go home. We're going out for dinner with one of daddy's business associates tonight and we both need a bath before that!"

Harry scuffed his feet and pouted, "I don't wanna go! Daddy's dinner parties are boring!"

Harry would have continued whinging but Stephanie interrupted him, "Harry James Potter-Grey, stop at once. I know that daddy's dinner parties can be boring, but they are necessary. When you are older you will have to participate in the parties, but that is not for now. For now, you will behave tonight and come with me without a fuss or you will not go to Ryouta-kun's birthday party tomorrow."

Harry looked up at here with his big green eyes, "Yes, haha4, I'm coming." Harry turned around and waved to the other children, and said something rapidly in Japanese that Stephanie didn't catch. Apparrently Satou-sama's spell had worn off.

o 0 o

Harry sat, bouncing excitedly, today was his fourth birthday and, although his party wasn't until tonight, this morning was a very special morning. Mummy had declared that he had enough control over his metamorph abilities since finding his magical center two months ago to venture into mundane territory. True, they had been to the airport last christmas and with papa's family for the whole holiday, but the whole time mummy had had a glamour on him and papa's family knew about magic. Today he was going to work with papa so mummy could prepare the house for his party without him underfoot—at least that was what mummy said.

Marshall entered Harry's room to find him bouncing excitedly in his bed, mismatched clothes beside him. Marshall chuckled, "Harry, son, calm yourself. We mustn't have you looking the ragamuffin today, those clothes simply won't do. I've bought you a new outfit for today." Marshall handed Harry a thin package.

Harry grinned and took the package, tearing into the wrapping and opening the box. Inside was a new light pair of khaki trousers, an emerald green silk shirt and a plain white undershirt. Underneath it all was a new pair of dragon hide boots and some socks. "Arigato papa. Will you help me put them on?" Once Harry was dressed, he and Marshall headed down the stairs for Harry's birthday breakfast then off to the Embassy.

o 0 o

Harry sighed and swung his feet, this was boring. The morning had been interesting, lots of people in and out of his papa's office and lots of new things to see. Papa had shown Harry how some of the negotiations that he had been part of in the last few years had played out. It strongly tickled Harry's Slytherin sense of cunning, trying to get what you want without giving up anything you don't want to. Although Harry didn't understand what exactly the negotiations were for, the process involved intrigued him greatly. Harry thought that maybe if he learned how his papa did that he might be able to get a later bedtime, or less baths. Harry sighed again, but probably not both.

Now papa had paperwork to do and that was not interesting at all. Time seemed to not move one little bit! Harry had learned to tell time two weeks ago and that clock on the wall had not moved from 3:30 for hours! He had forgotten his favorite book at home, and papa didn't have anything immediately to hand that was suitable for his age. Although Harry could read, all the books in here had big words that he had not yet learned.

Marshall looked up at Harry, he had planned this whole day out so that Harry would not be bored. Unfortunately, an emergency arose and Marshall got stuck reading this poorly written proposal. He felt sorry, in an abstract way, for the aide who had written this proposal, it was severely lacking and required a good bit of editing. Thus the reason that Harry was sitting, bored, on a chair on the other side of his desk. Suddenly, an idea hit Marshall, "Harry, how would you like to go down to the dojo and watch? I'm pretty sure that there is a class right now. I know how much you like to watch Jun when he does his kata."

Harry jumped up excitedly, any time he got an opportunity to watch anyone practicing any of the Japanese martial art forms he took it, although jujutsu and kendo were his favorite to watch. "Where's the dojo, papa?" Harry cried grabbing Marshall's hand, "Let's go! What are we waiting for?"

Marshall chuckled, took Harry's hand and lead him down the hall towards a sign that read 'Yoshinkan Hombu Dojo.' "Here we are Harry, let me check with the sensei and make sure he doesn't mind you watching."

Harry watched as his papa walked over to the sensei who was standing in the corner. The class had apparently not started yet as the group of young teens were standing around chatting. The sensei glanced at Harry and headed over towards him. Harry straightened his shoulders, he had to be a proper little boy and be on his best behavior if he wanted to be allowed to stay.

The sensei approached Harry and smiled at him, Harry bowed and said, in fluent Japanese, "Sensei, I would be most happy if you would allow me to watch your students."

The sensei laughed and turned to Marshall, "I see your son is very polite, Marshall-san. Of course he may stay and watch." The sensei turned to the solemn but nearly bouncing Harry, "You, Harry-kun, may stay, but you must stay out of the way, yes?"

"Yes, sensei. You won't even know I'm here." Harry bounced a little, before regaining his composure and sitting down to remove his shoes so he could enter the dojo proper.

"Thank you sensei, he was just about to explode in my office, I had some paperwork come in that could not wait until tomorrow. I will return for him within the hour." Marshall sighed.

"That is unnecessary, Marshall-san. He may remain here and observe until you are ready to leave if you wish it."

"Very well." Marshall glanced in at Harry to see him sitting on the floor at the side of the dojo watching the older teens on the mat warm up and copying their actions. Marshall chuckled, "Harry loves jujutsu. One of his friends at his daycare is enrolled at a dojo and Harry will sit and watch him do his kata every day. Jun tells him he's too young for a dojo yet, but he still tries to imitate anything he sees Jun do."

"Well, perhaps, if he seems in control enough I will allow him to join in the beginner class that is after this. We shall see." The sensei bowed to Marshall and turned to his students.

o 0 o

Stephanie smiled to herself as the front door banged open, "Mum! Guess what? Sensei said that I'm doing so good with my jujutsu that I could join with the Kendo class this year!" a now 5-year-old Harry bounded into the kitchen where Stephanie was making dinner, followed at a more sedate pace by his father. Harry slowed down at a look from his mother but quickly moved to her side and gave her a hug as best he could, given her 8-month-pregnant state. "Hi baby sister," Harry began speaking in English but quickly drifted to more rapid fire Japanese while telling his unborn sister about his day.

"Stephanie," Marshall called from the other side of the table, "I got our next assignment today. We are going to Russia next year."

Harry glanced up sharply, "Russia! That's forever away, will I ever see my friends again? I don't want to leave Ryouta!"

"Harry, it's okay." Stephanie soothed, "Russia is not that far for witches and wizards, it's a simple port key away. You will still get to see Ryouta. Perhaps not as much as you do now, but you can write letters and take a lot of pictures for him. Besides, we're not leaving until after Christmas, it's not quite August yet, there's plenty of time."

Harry thought about it for a moment, then replied, "Mum, I don't speak Russian."

Stephanie laughed, "Neither do I, son, we'll just have to learn some. Although I expect that you will pick it up faster than I will, the same as you did with Japanese."

Harry looked over at his father, "Papa, I need to learn Russian." He intoned seriously, "How can I learn Russian?"

Marshall smiled, "Harry, I will get you some tapes that teach you how to speak Russian, I foresee that you'll be fluent before we even get there."

Harry grinned cheekily, "Of course I will. If it's worth doing, it's worth doing right. Someone in this family needs to be able to talk to the people over there!" Harry said, for a minute mimicking his father in his favorite saying.

Stephanie laughed at her precocious son, "Go get cleaned up for dinner, Harry. Then you need to get to bed early, you've got a big day tomorrow. Satou-sama is taking all of you to Maho no Roji tomorrow to see what she called wando kogei5. I'm not actually sure what that means, but I'm sure it will be interesting." She said, referring to Tokyo's magical shopping center.

Harry paused on his way out of the room, "It means that we are going to the wand maker's shop tomorrow, mum."

o 0 o

The children clattered into Satou-sama's van the next day. Jun, as the oldest, got the front seat, Takahiro and Reina sat in the center and Harry, Ryouta and Ayaka, as the youngest, sat in the back seat. Momko had left for school the year prior and was now too old for daycare. Although they could have just flooed to the More Nabe6, Satou-sensei felt that it was both too hot to start a fire, being the first of August, and that the hour drive would be more educational for the 6 children who had no exposure to the mundane world.

Satou-sama drove through the tunnel of cherry trees on the Sotobori Dori towards the center of Tokyo. They parked the car in a lot near the corner of Sotobori Dori and Aoyama Dori and walked to the center of the block where the More Nabe was located. Although Harry had never entered Majo no Roji from the mundane side, he could feel the wards that kept the mundanes from finding the entrance to their world.

The group quickly moved through the back of the More Nabe and out onto the concrete street.

"This is Maho no Roji, in this area, most general shopping can be done, general school supplies, clothes, groceries and potion supplies." Satou-sensei began telling them about the area for those who had not ever entered the Alley. The group continued down the road, "The shop that we are going to is at the end of this street." She motioned to a side street that branched off of Majo no Roji, "That is Akarui Roji, down there are the more specialized shops, expensive clothing stores and so on. You can find just about anything down Akarui Roji," she paused and motioned down the street across from it, "and, if you can't, you most likely will find it down Kurai Roji. The shops there lean more towards the dark side of magic—don't even think about it Harry-kun," Satou-sensei interrupted herself, seeing the interested gleam in Harry's eye, "There is a ward around Kurai Roji that denies anyone not of age entrance, even if you are with your parents. The dark arts are not illegal, however they are strictly regulated and you may not study it until your magic has matured and your magical center can withstand the requirements of dark magic. That is why some countries that do not regulate dark magic users have problems, most children's magic is not mature enough to handle the dark magic and it twists him." Satou-sensei looked at all six of them solemnly, "You must promise me that if you intend to learn dark magic that you will not attempt to practice any until your magical center has matured."

"Yes, Sensei," All six intoned, understanding the gravity of the situation. This was not something to be played with.

Satou-sama brightened, "Very good, but we did not come here to think on such things, now, to the wand crafters." She lead them to a large bright store at the terminal end of Maho no Roji, the sign outside had two crossed wands emitting sparks.

Inside the store there were shelves and shelves of small boxes behind a counter. A bell tinkled over the door and an old Japanese man came around the corner and smiled widely at them. "Ah, children, it is good to see you. Now, today I am going to show you how wands are made," he gestured to Jun, "How old are you, boku-chan?"

"I am eleven, Sensei."

"You will be going to school this year, yes? Well, perhaps you will make your wand today." The wand crafter smiled mysteriously. "Now, who all do we have here?"

The children all introduced themselves and then followed the wand crafter into the back room which was filled with raw wand materials. On one wall were boxes and boxes of wand blanks, on the other were boxes, vials and bags of wand core materials. "Now, each of these wand blanks has a perfect match in its core. The core material of the wand will depend on the material of the wood. Each wood and each core fall somewhere on the dark to light spectrum. If the wand wood is at the end of the dark spectrum, then the core needs to be at the end of the light spectrum. In this way the wand has balance. An unbalanced wand has unpredictable effects. Now, each of you grab a wand blank, take your time, and we will move on from there."

o 0 o

Harry looked at the wand he had created, there were a few nicks in the wood where he had slipped and the core was not quite inside the wood yet, but he could feel the magic in it. The wand crafter was collecting the attempts that the children had made over the afternoon, commenting on each. As the wand crafter had predicted, Jun had made a wand that—when finished by the wand crafter—would perfectly suit him.

The wand crafter stopped in front of Harry, "What have you created, Potter-kun? Let us see: Birch wood and Black Poisonwood, an interesting combination. And for the cores? Hmm, Basilisk fang and serpent scales, very interesting indeed. Not a combination that I would make myself, however I can feel the magic in it and it is in balance. This could be a very powerful wand Potter-kun, but I do not know that it will work for anyone but you, and you are far too young for such a tool."

Harry looked up at him wide eyed, "They were calling me, Sensei, they wanted to go into a wand together, although the combination is not one that you mentioned. Should I not have listened?"

"No, Potter-kun, you did well. I will finish this wand and when you are older you return here and I will give it to you."

Harry grinned, he had a wand! True, he couldn't use it, or even touch it for a few more years, but he had one. And it was one he made himself. Now, the day was almost over and it would soon be time to go home. Maybe papa had picked up those Russian tapes he promised, Harry couldn't wait to start to learn a new language; although he hated the idea at first, now he was simply excited to see more of the world. The world really wasn't that big when you were a wizard, anyhow.

o 0 o

_Japanese Translations_

_1 Kakurenbo – Hide-and-seek_

_2 Te Kudasai – Please_

_3 Guzen no maho – accidental magic_

_4 Haha – mother, but only your own_

_5 Wando kogei – wand crafting_

_6 More Nabe – literally translated Leaky Cauldron, not terribly original, I know, but it was fun. _


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: Not mine._

_AN: Several of you have asked what's going on with DD. Honestly, I hadn't decided if I wanted him to be simply manipulative for the good as he saw it, greedy, malicious, evil, incompetent or senile. I've decided now, so here's a bit of DD (with a smidgeon of SS). R&R._

o 0 o

**Hogwarts, November 1, 1981, evening**

Albus Dumbledore sat in his tower office contemplating the events of the past 24 hours. Yesterday evening, Voldemort had set in motion a prophecy told to himself by the current divination teacher in an interview two years ago. Albus aspired to keep her close in order to prevent any nefarious characters from extracting the prophecy from her in its entirety. While Voldemort did know part—thanks to a death eater overhearing the beginning of it—the conclusion, and, therefore, the key to fulfilling it to a favorable outcome, was Albus' alone, he was sure of it.

_**The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lords approaches ... **_

_**born to those who have thrice defied him, **_

_**born as the seventh month dies ... **_

_**and the Dark Lords will mark him as equal, **_

_**but he will have power the Dark Lords know not ... **_

_**and either must end at the hand of the other **_

_**for none can live while the others survive ... **_

_**the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lords **_

_**will be born as the seventh month dies ...***_

_**and he will bring balance**_

While the prophecy could initially have referred to two different boys, Harry Potter or Neville Longbottom, Voldemort's actions the previous night singled one boy over the other. Harry Potter was the boy of the prophecy. Nevertheless, Albus would keep magical tabs on both boys throughout their youth. Thus ensuring that young Harry would be the perfect savior and martyr—which, given the results of his evaluation this morning was inevitable—and that young Neville would never outshine Harry. And although this would mean that neither would reach their potential, it was for Albus' greater good and would allow him, as the savior's mentor, to usher in a peaceful time and forever do away with the evil dark arts that so twisted his beloved Gellert.

Albus deliberated on his examination of Harry and considered his options. When Harry had first been brought to Hogwarts shortly after the attack that resulted in Voldemort's disappearance, he had been covered in nicks and cuts from the debris that had rained down when the magical backlash had blown out the wall and roof in his nursery. This morning, Albus had returned to see Harry and determine exactly what had occurred the previous night. The conclusions Albus came to were somewhat disturbing. First, Harry had a rather larger than average sized magical core: Solution, Albus had blocked the greater portion of it—for Harry's own good, of course, he would be growing up in the muggle world and strong accidental magic would be less than desirable. Second, one of Albus' rather more grey spells indicated that Harry had an eidetic memory: Solution, Albus had cursed him with a fairly short attention span—he couldn't have Harry learning too much on his own, it was Albus' job to teach Harry what he wanted him to know, just enough to succeed in vanquishing Voldemort for good, but not enough to see Albus' own machinations. Third, and possibly most disturbing (were Albus worried for the child rather than the weapon, which he was not), Harry had a small portion of Voldemort's spirit attached to his forehead which resulted in a unique scar that would serve to identify him to the wizarding world at large: Solution, Albus had encased the spirit in protective magic that would serve to keep it from invading Harry's psyche. Albus planned to use this tidbit to convince Harry of his need to be a martyr when he was no longer required.

Albus sat back and popped an untainted lemon drop into his mouth, all in all it had been a very productive day. Tomorrow he would have to determine how best to get Harry into the care of his maternal aunt, visit the Longbottoms to examine Neville for potential and replenish his supply of lemon drops, they were getting rather low. With those decisions made, Albus retired to his chambers.

**Hogwarts, November 2, 1981, morning**

Albus sat in his throne like chair at the head's table in the Great Hall, benevolently surveying the students who were still celebrating the downfall of Voldemort. Classes had been cancelled for the entire week, as even if classes had been held nothing would have been accomplished. The owls swooped in with the morning mail and the day's edition of the Daily Prophet.

_Longbottom's attacked! Bartemius Crouch, Jr., Lestranges apprehended!_

Albus smiled internally, here was a perfect, ready-made excuse to see and examine Neville Longbottom. Carefully keeping his external expression grave, Albus gleefully read the article. It seemed that both Alice and Frank were in St. Mungos and it looked unlikely that they would ever leave. Long exposure to the Cruciatus curse resulted in an unstable, stuporous state that was untreatable with light magic.

**Hogwarts, November 3, 1981, evening**

Albus returned to his office, feeling pleased with the results of his day. He had visited Longbottom Manor and although it had taken him all of yesterday to convince Augusta to allow him to examine Neville, he was successful in the end. Being the greatest light wizard in an age had its benefits. Neville Longbottom was a roly-poly child, according to Albus' evaluation, however he only had an average magical core and no astounding talents. Nevertheless, Albus had ensured he would not reach his potential and challenge Harry by cursing him with anxiety.

Albus set the bag of lemon drops he had bought on his desk and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. Now, to write the letter of explanation to Petunia and drop Harry off. Ten minutes later, Albus sat back, pleased with himself.

_Petunia, _

_I regret to inform you that your sister and her husband have passed away at the hands of a madman, leaving their son behind. It falls to you to raise him, his name is Harry. You are not expected to treat him any better than your own son, nor are you required to tell him anything of his heritage. In fact, it may be better if he remains unaware of it. _

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, _

_Order of Merlin, First Class_

_Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Chief Warlock of the Wizangamot_

_Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards_

Albus folded the parchment, sealing it with blood red wax and imprinting it with his seal. Then, after casting a compulsion charm on the letter, he left his office headed for Little Whinging to deliver Harry to his relatives' doorstep.

**Gringotts, November 6, 1982**

Albus Dumbledore breezed through the doors of Gringotts bank early in the morning. It was a Saturday, and he wanted to get his business here out of the way quickly. Last year, after placing Harry Potter in the care of his relatives, Albus had come to the bank to determine how much capital the baby had. Albus had presented the key to the trust vault—the only one he could access as Harry's self-appointed magical guardian—and visited the vault. He was surprised how much gold was in a simple trust vault, there were mounds of galleons, columns of sickles and heaps of knuts*.

Albus had determined that he could safely remove 5,000 galleons without it being especially notable. He had returned a week later to deposit those 5,000 galleons into the Weasley vault, anonymously of course, the Weasleys were very touchy on the subject of charity. The Weasleys were some of Albus' greatest supporters. Unfortunately, the Weasley's had more children than they could afford and the eldest had started at Hogwarts this year. Additionally, the Weasleys had a son that was just Harry's age and a daughter—the first in generations—that was only a year younger. Albus intended that Harry should be friends with the youngest Weasley boy and, perhaps if he lived long enough, to marry the girl—it wouldn't do to have the ministry absorb the Potter vaults because Harry had no will or issue when he died. However, in order for that plan to work, the family needed to be able to survive. Thus, Albus was again at Gringotts to remove another 5,000 galleons from Harry's trust vault and deposit it into the Weasley's.

Albus walked up to a free goblin and said, "I am here to make a withdrawal from my ward's trust vault. Unfortunately, I believe that the bank has recalled his vault key as it was not in the locked drawer I have for such things. I require a new key." Confident that his wishes would be obeyed.

"Your ward is, whom?" The goblin growled.

"Harry Potter." Albus replied.

The goblin narrowed his eyes at Albus, "The Potter trust vault has been sealed. The young heir's blood is required to open it."

Albus' eyes widened slightly. This could be tricky, but Harry was still young enough that he wouldn't remember anything as he got older and Albus was sure that he could get Petunia to allow him to borrow Harry for the morning, especially if she got some money out of the deal. "Very well, I shall return with him."

The goblin bared his teeth, "You do that."

o 0 o

Albus walked down Privet Drive, debating how best to convince Petunia to loan him Harry for the morning. Primarily, he had transfigured his outlandish wizarding robes into an expensive looking muggle suit and wool coat. Albus turned down the walk to number 4, observing the smoke coming from the chimney. Good, Petunia was home. Albus knocked on the door which was opened by a pretty brunette.

"Ah, Petunia, I need to speak to you. May I come in?" Albus smiled indulgently.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I think you've got the wrong address. My name is Mary Ashdown. There's no Petunia in residence." The woman smiled at him, at the same time closing the door minutely in preparation to slam it if Albus turned threatening.

"I'm sure this is the right address, I was here last year." Albus began but was interrupted.

"Well, there's your problem. We've only just bought this house last month." Mary relaxed a little, this wasn't a crack-pot, it was just a case of mistaken address.

Albus felt himself paling slightly and a small pit of dread filling his stomach. "Do you know where the family that used to live here moved to?"

"Not a clue, the house had been standing vacant for a fair few months before we moved in. We never actually even met the sellers. Sorry, mister."

Dazed, Albus turned and walked away, dimly registering what he had not upon entering the property: the wards he had set to engage as soon as Harry was in the house were nonexistent. Albus was unsure if this meant that the wards had never engaged or that they had fallen without Harry there to support them.

**Hogwarts, June 10, 1985**

Albus sat behind his desk, waiting for his young potions professor to make an appearance. The children had all left for home the day before and now Albus was about to bring in some assistance in his search for Harry Potter. A search he had kept completely to himself since he discovered him missing. He had employed all magical means to attempt to locate the wayward Potter heir: light, grey and even a few dark. All returned the same results, Harry Potter could not be found.

Severus Snape stalked up to the headmaster's office, black robes swirling around his ankles. He had been summoned early this morning as he was preparing to leave the school for the summer. Severus was looking forward to the almost three months before school started again. He had worked out a possible formula for a potion that would allow a werewolf to keep his mind during the monthly transformation. All that was left was to experiment with the actual brewing process over the summer. Severus was not a fan of werewolves by any means—having been nearly killed by one in the past—however he knew that such a potion would bring great honor and even more galleons to his name.

Severus approached the gargoyles that guarded the headmaster's office and gave the password: Ice Mice. He strode up the stairs and was about to knock on the door when the headmaster's voice came from inside, "Enter, Severus."

Severus entered the office and sat in one of the chairs that faced the desk, "What is it that you want, Headmaster? I was about to leave for the summer." Severus queried.

"Ah, my boy, I have come up against an obstacle that requires your particular skills to overcome." Albus stated vaguely.

Severus stared at Albus, wondering exactly which 'particular skills' the headmaster was speaking of. He knew that Albus wanted him to ask, however he was not in the mood to indulge Albus' whims. Therefore, he simply opted to wait for Albus to speak.

"It seems that the family that is caring for Harry Potter has moved. They have left no forwarding address, and I have been unable to find them by any magical means. I wish for you to locate them using muggle means. As you grew up in the muggle world, you are much better equipped to perform this task. I have tried, and been wholly unsuccessful." Albus said, after a few minutes of silence.

Severus narrowed his eyes, "You've lost Lily's child? Whom did you deem worthy to raise the savior?"

"He was given to his maternal aunt to raise. As it appears it was Lily's love that saved young Harry's life, I deemed it most appropriate for him to be raised where her blood resides."

Severus would have dropped his head into his hand if he had less control over himself. "Albus, you left your precious savior in the care of that shrew? Petunia was a spiteful little girl. Always jealous of Lily's abilities and the love and attention that was given to her from their parents. She absolutely loathed anything to do with magic! And that is who you gave my Lily's son to to raise?"

"It was the best place for him. Who is raising Harry is not up for discussion, nor is it the issue here. The issue is that the Dursley's relocated, sometime in the year after Harry was left with them. I wish you to find them and check on Harry then report back to me."

Severus glared at Albus, "Very well, but I repeat, it was a bad idea to leave a magical child in the care of Petunia Dursley. Especially one as important as Potter is to the sheep of our world."

**Cardiff, June 20, 1985**

Severus stood outside an opulent home in the countryside outside of Cardiff. In the end, it had really not been that difficult to locate the Dursleys through muggle means with judicious use of magic. Severus had visited the Dursley's old neighborhood in Surrey and interviewed the neighbors. He told them that he was looking for Vernon Dursley because he'd had a rich uncle die and had received a windfall. Through his conversations with the neighbors, he found where Vernon Dursley worked and that the Dursley's had left as if they were going on vacation one day and never returned. Severus had then visited Vernon Dursley's place of employment. This turned out to be rather almost fruitless as Vernon Dursley had not worked there since November, 1981, and had left no forwarding address.

Severus' first break had come when one of the secretaries had remembered that, just prior to quitting, Vernon had boasted about a major windfall and that he was moving his family to an elite neighborhood in Cardiff. Severus had then visited the Cardiff library to search their phone books for the listing for Vernon Dursley. It had taken several days and even more false leads, but now here Severus was, standing outside Petunia Dursley's house.

Severus raised his hand and knocked on the door. From within he heard the sound of a child screaming and the shrill tones of Petunia's voice.

The door opened and a thin, harried-looking woman answered the door, "Can I help..." Petunia cut herself off, a look of disgust crossing her face, "What do you want, Severus?"

Severus glared at her, "I've come to check on Lily's son. Certain parties were concerned when you moved and left no forwarding address."

Petunia glanced behind her and then stepped out onto the porch. One of the greatest things about this house was it could not be seen from other homes in the area, no nosy neighbors getting into her business. Nevertheless, she was not going to admit Severus Snape, of all people, into her house. "I don't have custody of Lily's child." She raised her hand as Severus was about to interrupt, "That day, I found him in a basket on the porch when I went to get the paper. Lily had sent me a letter a few weeks prior that said if that should happen that I was to call the American Embassy and give her son to Stephanie Grey. She picked him up that same morning. I'm rather glad that Lily made those arrangements. I've got my hands completely full with my own son, I am certain that I would not have been able to handle a child like her as well. Now, you have your information, I'll kindly ask you to leave and please do not return. I wish to have no contact with anyone from the world that killed my sister." With that, Petunia turned and went into the house, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Severus considered what he had learned, and apparated to London to find the American Embassy and Stephanie Grey. He had a suspicion that Stephanie Grey might really be Stephanie Abernathy, as she had been close with Lily all through school. If this was true, then he knew that Lily's son would have a proper upbringing but additionally, he might have to brace himself for a Slytherin Harry Potter.

**Tokyo, June 25, 1985**

Severus sat at a table in More Nabe sipping his butterbeer and listening to the sharp tones of Japanese all around him. He could have cast a translation charm, but truly, he had no desire to evesdrop on any of the conversations going on around him. He was currently pondering his next move. His visit to the American Embassy had informed him that the Greys had been transferred to Japan nearly four years ago. Severus' head snapped up at the sound of a child jabbering in English. He glanced around the pub and gasped as his eyes connected with those of a very pregnant Stephanie Grey nee Abernathy. He had found them.

Severus swept up from his table and followed them out into the shopping district. The child was the right age to be Lily's son, but he looked nothing like what Severus expected. His hair was sleek and black, his face more angular than either Lily or James. And although Severus did not see the lightning bolt scar that the entire wizarding world was in awe of, his eyes were almost identical to Lily's.

Suddenly, when the boy was distracted by the window dressing of a shop, Stephanie whirled around, her wand already pointed at Severus, "What are you doing here, Severus?" She asked in a low whisper.

"Albus sent me to find Lily's son." Severus saw no reason to lie.

"If you ever truly loved Lily, you will not reveal Harry to that bastard." Stephanie hissed, "Lily asked me to raise him, asked me to adopt him, even. That old man left Harry on a doorstep in the middle of the night in November. He also bound Harry's magic so tight that he would have been a squib. You have two choices, you vow not to tell him or I obliviate you. Think fast, because I don't want Harry to see you."

Severus stilled. Albus had done those things? Well, he supposed that it was possible, the old goat never did see the smaller picture. One look into Stephanie's eyes told him she was deadly serious and would protect her son through any means. "Very well, I vow on my magic not to reveal what I have discovered this day."

Stephanie smiled coldly, "Not good enough Severus, I was a Slytherin too. You'll vow on your magic that you will not reveal to anyone what you have learned about Harry's living situation, or I'll obliviate you right now."

Severus smirked. "Stephanie, you are teaching him to be the wizard he is capable of becoming, I assume?"

Stephanie nodded, "He will know who he is and what his place in society is, and when that vile animal of a man you used to call 'master' reappears, he will remove him from power permanently. So you'd best consider all angles before you commit to anything this time around."

Severus nearly gaped at her, he didn't think anyone but Albus believed that the Dark Lord would return, "I will consider all you have said, I Severus Snape vow on my magic not to reveal what I have learned about Harry Potter."

Stephanie relaxed minutely, "Thank you, now, you should go. Harry will be at Hogwarts, don't worry about that."

Severus turned and left. He still had two months to work on that potion. He would return to Hogwarts a week before school started and tell Albus that Petunia had never set eyes on her nephew.

o 0 o

* not word for word, but almost, from JK

_A.N.: Before any of you jump down my throat about how much money would have gone how far, I did do my homework. A galleon is approximately 5 pounds, so the Weasley's 5k galleons is 25k pounds. 25K pounds in 1981 is approximately equal to right around 100k of today. Similarly, the money given to the Dursley's is equal to approximately 2.2 million pounds today. Secondly, Harry's not of average intelligence, therefore I'm not going to write him average, children have the easiest time learning new languages because their neural pathways are still growing. Additionally, it's fiction. ~sorry, had to rant for a mo, done now~_


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: Not mine._

_A.N.: Don't get used to updates this close together, it's a holiday and I'm bored and by myself. What better to do than work on my story? And yes, I'm aware that technically it was the Soviet Union in 1985. _

o 0 o

Six-year-old Harry Potter-Grey sat on a chair in a goblin's office at Gringotts, Moscow, waiting for his mother to be done talking to the goblin. It was time for his yearly checkup and loosening of the goblin bonds on his magic. This year the bonds had been loosened so that his magical output was at 75%, and in another three years or so they would come off entirely to give him time to adjust to a full magical output before school. Harry decided to practice his metamorphmagus talent while he waited, pulling out a mirror—that he kept for times of boredom such as these—to see the changes.

Stephanie, holding 11-month-old Elizabeth Grey, turned from the goblin to tell Harry that it was time to go. They were headed to a wizarding park so that Harry could try out the kiddie broom that Stephanie had finally relented and bought for him. It would not go too fast and would not rise above 2 meters. As Harry had not been on a broom since Stephanie and Marshall had adopted him, she felt this was the best place to start.

Stephanie took one look at her young son and snorted, trying to contain her laughter, Harry looked up at her and she gave in. Harry had obviously been playing with his metamorph abilities. His hair was straw blond with neon pink and electric blue streaks, it was shoulder-length and in Shirley Temple curls. His eyebrows were a lime green, one eye was pure black the other was sky blue but what amused her the most was the bottom half of his face had been transformed into a duck's bill, except he still had teeth.

"Come on, love," Stephanie said, still giggling, "Let the transformations go and we'll head over to the park to see how your broom suits you."

Harry nodded his head vigorously, and resumed his base appearance. "I can change my hair, and I can usually get my eyes to cooperate, but I can't figure out how to make the teeth disappear with the duck bill." He said, a little frustrated.

"And do you anticipate needing to turn your face into that of a duck frequently," Stephanie smiled.

"Well, no, but it's annoying that I can't do it." Harry replied.

"You'll get it eventually, son, I'm sure of it." Stephanie said, "You can do anything you set your mind to." This was Stephanie's mantra when it came to Harry, she was sure that as long as he was not discouraged, he would be able to do anything when he grew up. "Now, hold on to me and I'll apparate us to the park." With a muted crack the three disappeared from Predznamenovaniem Allyeya, Moscow's wizarding shopping district, reappearing a moment later in a huge grassy field.

o 0 o

Seven-year-old Harry was excited. Today was the last day of school before summer break and they were taking a field trip to the zoo. He hadn't been to the zoo in Moscow yet, and it was years ago when he went to the zoo in Tokyo. Harry was sure that today was going to be fantastic.

When it was time to leave for the zoo, all the grade 1 students walked single file to the busses. Harry quickly claimed two benches; one for himself and the boys, Aleksei and Zimitra, and one for the girls, Anastassia, Ekaterina and Galina. The six had been inseparable since their first day of kindergarten.

Once at the zoo, the 25 students in Harry's class were directed to follow an older woman with salt-and-pepper hair named Mrs. Kozlov. She was going to be their guide for the tour of the zoo. The class saw snow leopards and tigers, kangaroos and jackrabbits, giraffes and zebras, elephants and wolves. There was an enclosure with hundreds of exotic birds inside and a smaller enclosure with larakeets that the children could feed and have land on them. It was getting late in the day, almost time to go home, and there was one stop left for Harry and his classmates. The reptile house.

The children were allowed to look around for a few minutes before the reptile handler, Mr. Novikov, came out to teach the class a little about reptiles. He had several different animals to show them, but the one that Harry found most enthralling was the large snake that was around the handlers shoulders. Harry, Aleksei, Zimitra, Anastassia, Ekaterina and Galina sat at the front of the group eagerly.

_'Oh, look, more little humans. I want to go back to my stone and sleep!'_ Harry looked around curiously, wondering where the voice was coming from.

Mr. Novikov pulled the snake off his shoulders, "This is Anessia, she is an albino ball python."

_'I have told you, I am not a she! Why does he never listen?'_ Harry smothered his giggle, certain that he was the only one who had heard the snake's reply. Mr. Novikov continued telling the class about the different reptiles in the enclosure, but Harry stayed focused on the python that was now sitting on the floor curled up in itself. _'Why can't the floors be warmer, I tell him I am cold blooded and it needs to be warmer in here, but does ANYONE listen to the snake? No, they don't. I wonder if I will get a live rat to chase for being such a good snake today.' _The snake continued to grumble for another minute before catching Harry's intense stare. _'Why are you still looking at me, little human?'_ Harry knew he couldn't reply, being in the middle of a bunch of mundanes, so he simply grinned and raised his eyebrows. _ 'Do you understand me, little human?'_ Harry nodded slightly. _'Your lap looks warm, I am cold.'_ Harry waved the snake over surreptitiously.

Mr. Novikov stopped his lecture abruptly when he noticed his python slithering up into the laps of some of the children, he started to retrieve her when Harry stopped him. "It's ok, sir, he's just cold. We don't mind." The other five shook their heads. Mr. Novikov shrugged, this was the first time that Anessia had voluntarily gone into the audience, but as long as the children didn't mind.

Harry burst into the living room where Stephanie was rocking Lizzy, "Mum! Guess what? I heard a snake today!"

"Oh, and what did the snake tell you?" Stephanie smiled indulgently, Harry's imagination knew no bounds.

"He said that he was a he not an she like Mr. Novikov said, and that he wanted a live rat and was cold!" Harry exclaimed, "I let him curl up on my lap to get warm."

Stephanie stopped, did this mean that Harry was a parselmouth? "Did you talk back to the snake at all?"

"No, I couldn't, there were mundanes all around."

"Good boy. This is not a common ability to have, if I'm right it means that you are a parselmouth. Back in England having this ability is seen as a mark of evil because their most recent dark lord was known for his parselmouth ability. However, I think you probably got it from me when I blood adopted you. I am—and therefore you are—descended from Salazar Slytherin, one of the founders of Hogwarts and the most well known parselmouth. I'm not sure how the ability is looked on in Russia, but I think until we know more you probably should be careful who knows about it."

Harry nodded, it made sense. He had always known that he was blood adopted at the wishes of his birth parents after their death. "OK. Can I call Ryouta?"

Stephanie smiled, "Yes, you may."

The next day found Stephanie entering Predznamenovaniem Allyeya by herself in search of any books she could find on parseltongue. Walking down the street she saw a sign that said simply, 'Rare books'. She figured that that was as good a place as any to start her search. It seemed that luck was with her, she found several books that dealt with parseltongue.

As she was paying for the books, the proprietor eyed her, then nodding to himself, he said, "You are the parselmouth, or you know one?"

Stephanie hesitated, she was unsure if she wanted to tell anyone.

"Do not worry. The English have many strange beliefs about the world at large that are untrue. There are many parselmouths worldwide. More than 50 but less than 100 I would guess. It is not an evil ability, but a powerful one that allows the speaker access to a very elite branch of magic."

"My son has discovered he has this ability. I wanted to learn all I could about it so that when he begins to train his magic I could explain it to him. What do you mean by an elite branch of magic?" Stephanie queried.

"Parselmouths are able to use parselmagic." The proprietor grabbed a book from behind the counter, "This book will explain to your son more about his ability and how to train it."

Stephanie looked at the book, the front of the book was covered in squiggles, as were all the pages. "What do you mean, this is not any language I've ever seen written, and I'm sure that Harry hasn't either."

The man smiled, "I doubt you have, that is what parseltongue looks like on paper. Your son will instinctively be able to read it."

"I— thank you." Stephanie payed and then returned home, contemplating what she'd learned.

o 0 o

It was the day after Harry's ninth birthday and the day after Harry's goblin bonds were completely removed. Stephanie and Marshall down with their three children, Harry, Lizzy and two-month-old Alexander, to explain to Harry the circumstances surrounding his adoption and birth parents' death. He had always known about the adoption, but Stephanie and Marshall felt that it would be better to keep the specifics from him until he could understand what they meant. They had wanted to wait one more year, however Marshall had been transferred to France effective the end of the month. Since Harry's name was far more popular in that area of the country, they both felt it was better to tell him now than have him blindsided with it by a stranger.

"Harry, we felt that it would be best if we told you a little more about how we came to adopt you since we are going back west, and you and your birth parents are rather acclaimed in the British Isles, although I'm not sure if that fame extends over into France." Stephanie started. "You know a little bit about England's dark lord problem a decade ago, but not how it ended. The story of how Marshall and I came to have you starts about two weeks before the dark lord Voldemort disappeared.

"Your mother wrote me a letter telling me that she'd had a premonition of her and James' death, she wanted to ask me to take you if that happened. I'll make a very long story short, there is a prophecy about you. I don't know what it says, but because of it your birth parents went into hiding with you. They were killed when their secret keeper broke the secret. Voldemort himself carried out the deed, but for whatever reason, the curse he used on you rebounded on him and he disappeared. Now, he's not gone for good according to the goblins, but he's gone for now and not something that we have to worry about just yet.

"Now, the reason I wanted you to understand this before we head back west next week is because your name is famous out there. You are considered their savior. They even have a nickname for you, you are called 'The Boy-who-Lived'. The English are not that creative with nicknames, I know, Voldemort was called 'You-know-who'. One more thing, it really doesn't have to do with the adoption, however, Voldemort is also a parselmouth. He was very well known for it, in fact. I'm telling you this because if the English discover that you are one as well, it is very possible that you will be labeled evil and dark. I just wanted to caution you to be careful of who you reveal this ability to when we get to France and when you are at Hogwarts. There is a bit more to the story after we adopted you, but I don't think you're quite ready for that yet, although you will know before you go to Hogwarts. I promise."

Harry sighed, "So I'm famous out there? For something I didn't even do? Great."

Marshall smiled, "I know, Harry. Just don't let the opinions of other people dictate what you do."

"Don't worry, papa, I won't. You've raised me to be an independent thinker." Harry smiled back at his parents. "It's a bit much to take in, but I'll be fine."

Stephanie clapped her hands, "OK, Harry I want you to finish packing up your stuff tonight, you're going to Ryouta's house tomorrow. I will be by to pick you up in a week and we will go get your wand from the wand crafter in Maho no Roji."

"OK mum." Harry replied and hurried off to his room to put the finishing touches on his packing. He was quite excited, it had been a month since he had seen Ryouta. Additionally, he was going to get to pick up the wand that he had partially made just before they moved from Japan. Harry assumed that this meant that he was going to get to learn some magic very soon. He had read some of his mum's old school books that he had snuck out of the library without her knowing, and was sure that he could probably do some of it with a little practice. All in all, Harry was looking forward to his next adventure in France._  
_


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: It's not mine! How many times do I have to tell you? _

_A.N.: Hey again! Harry's back in Europe! How long before someone figures out who he is? Who will it be? Read on! OK, so I have been considering ships for later and I'm debating a triad. (there will never be anything explicit either way.) Opinions? And with no further ado, here we go. Oh, yeah, and I want to apologize in advance, I'm more a Ravenclaw than a Slytherin type, so I'm sorry if my sneakiness and cunning really aren't._

o 0 o

Harry stumbled as the port key from Los Angeles International Airport deposited the Greys at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris, France. Harry was fairly adept at local port keys, however the international ones always left his head spinning. It had been just after breakfast that the Greys had left the US, and it was now just after tea time in Paris. Harry sighed, he hated port key lag. The family went through magical customs, got their passports stamped and hailed a cab to the US ambassador's residence.

When they pulled in to the residence, Harry's breath caught in his throat. The ambassador's residences that they had inhabited in Tokyo and Moscow were large. _This_ was absolutely palatial. The residence was shaped like an 'H', three stories tall with a tan stone exterior. Harry was certain that he'd get lost a few times and determined never to let Lizzy wander off alone or he'd likely never find her again—without magic, anyway.

The family was met at the door by a man who Harry assumed was a butler or some kind of staff to the mansion, he led the family up to the bedrooms so they could get settled in.

"Merci," Stephanie said, she was ecstatic to finally be in a country where she could fluently speak the language, "Can you inform the staff that both Harry and Lizzy will be expected to keep their own rooms tidy? And Harry is perfectly capable of making his own bed in the morning as well," Stephanie shot an overdramatized 'or else' look at Harry, "aren't you, son?"

Harry put on a look of mock offense, "Hey! That was one time! _Once_! And it was my birthday, shouldn't a boy not have to make his bed on his own birthday? Will I never hear the end of it?"

Marshall laughed, "I doubt it, son, your mother is a Slytherin, remember? They never forget a potential piece of blackmail. Or at least that's what she tells me."

The butler's lips twitched, "Oui, Madame, I will inform the staff. Will you be needing anything more?" Stephanie shook her head, "Very well, one of the staff shall return to guide you to the dining room at around 7:30, will that be satisfactory?"

Stephanie looked at her watch, that gave them 3 hours to get settled, "Yes, that will do."

With a nod, the butler retreated back to his duties.

"Ok, kids, you choose your room and get settled in. Tomorrow, Harry, you and I are going to have to go to the Ministère de la Magie to get permission for you to use magic in a specified area. I think that I will probably put a muggle repelling ward on one of the unused hallways and magic will be restricted to behind the ward. Then we're heading to Nice for the weekend before your father officially starts work."

"Ok, mum." Harry said, and started down the hall, peeking in each room as he passed. When Harry came to the last door in the hallway, he knew he'd found his room. It was actually a small suite, one wall was a huge fireplace made of tan limestone. In front of the fireplace was a pristine white bear skin rug surrounded by a persian blue sofa, chair and fainting couch each with a fleur de lis stitched in fine gold thread on the backs. The floor was covered in a cream thick pile carpet, while the walls were a very pale shade of yellow and on every available wall space were bookshelves. There were two floor-to-ceiling windows with hangings to match the furniture. Between the windows sat an ornate Louis XV secretary desk and matching chair. On the wall opposite the fireplace was an extravagant dark wood door that led to the bedroom and en suite.

The bedroom was even more perfect, in Harry's opinion. The room was dominated by a huge baroque bed that sat on an elevated platform at one end of the room. The covers, bed hangings and window dressings were emerald green velvet, with bronze accents. The walls were, again, a very pale yellow and the floor was a dark stain hardwood with pale yellow and pale green throw rugs scattered throughout the room. There were windows on two walls of the room that looked out over the back grounds and courtyard.

On the fourth wall were two doors, the first leading into a mammoth walk in closet with built in drawers and the second leading to the en suite. Where the sitting room and bedroom were light and airy, the bathroom was dark. Black marble countertops and a large black marble tub dominated the room. The floor, in complete contrast was white marble, blood red towels hung from ornate gold towel rods against a snow white wall.

Completely satisfied with his rooms, Harry returned to the closet and placed the few belongings he had with him away. The majority of the family's belongings were being shipped—the mundane way—from Moscow and would be arriving some time in the next few days. Once his things were put away, Harry scurried up onto his soft bed, put on his headphones and turned on the French language tape that his father had gotten him a few months back. Harry wasn't fluent, not yet, but he was determined that he would be.

o 0 o

The next morning saw Stephanie and Harry entering the Ministère de la Magie in search of the Abus de Pouvoir Magique. Once they found the office, Stephanie approached the nearest worker and requested to see the head.

"Monsieur Martineau was in a meeting but will be able to see you in the next ten minutes if you care to wait?" The woman stated, motioning to a row of chairs against the wall. "Whom shall I say is waiting?"

"Stephanie and Harry Grey," Stephanie said, and she and Harry sat. After 10 minutes they were approached by a portly man with a shock of red hair with a balding patch in the back.

"Madame Grey, I presume?" Stephanie nodded, "I am Henri Martineau, come back into my office." With that, he turned and led the duo to a nondescript office with a utilitarian desk and chairs. "Now, how can I be of service to you?"

"Monsieur, I wish to begin teaching some magic to my son. We are requesting a waiver for the underage restriction, with the stipulation that he will, of course, never perform magic unmonitored."

"This is rather unusual, Madame Grey."

"I realize that, the circumstances are rather unusual, as well. I did not give your secretary my son's full name. He is Harry Potter-Grey, the English's 'boy-who-lived'." Monsieur Martineau had an expression of understanding cross his face as his eyes flicked to Harry's forehead, "As such," Stephanie continued, "he is likely to have as many enemies as fans when he returns to Britain to go to Hogwarts. I would be much more comfortable with this if I knew for a fact that my son could defend himself if necessary. He has completed his muggle schooling through 6th form, which is as far as most muggleborns get prior to starting their magical education. We wish to hire a tutor to allow him to continue his muggle studies as well as beginning his magical ones."

"That sounds like a very reasonable request. Do you have a location chosen for his studies?"

"Yes, my husband is the muggle ambassador for the United States so we currently reside in the ambassador's mansion. I plan to ward a set of rooms in the family wing with muggle repelling wards to keep the muggle staff away. Harry will, naturally, not be allowed to intentionally use his magic outside that room. Naturally, if he does happen to have an outburst of accidental magic that is a different situation entirely."

Monsieur Martineau rummaged through a pile of parchment on his desk, finally coming up with what he was looking for. He then grabbed a quill, signed his name and tapped it with his wand making it disappear. "There, it is done. Congratulations, Monsieur Potter-Grey, you are now allowed to use magic in the specified area of your home as long as you are supervised by an of-age witch or wizard."

Harry grinned, that had been easier than he expected, "Merci, monsieur."

Stephanie smiled as well, "Come, Harry, we must get home. It is only an hour before our port key leaves for Nice." She rose and shook hands with Monsieur Martineau and they left, ready for a weekend of relaxation.

o 0 o

An hour later, the Greys found themselves at the wizarding arrival station at the Palais de la Mediterranee. A squib bellhop gathered their things and wheeled them in, leaving the muggles none the wiser that the family had not arrived by conventional methods. At the front desk, Stephanie was met with the sight of someone she hadn't seen in over a decade. He was dressed in a nice suit—this was a 5-star hotel, after all—his hair was turning prematurely gray and his chocolate brown eyes looked tired and sad.

Stephanie stopped short, debating how to play off this inevitable meeting. Sighing, she decided there was nothing for it but to scrape up what little Gryffindor had rubbed off from Lily back in school and charge in head first. "Remus?" He looked up and his eyes widened as he recognized her, "Remus Lupin?"

o 0 o

_A.N.: HAHA! OK, I had planned to go further into the story tonight (I'm writing at work), but the story seemed to get away from me, also I want to post what I have before I leave work! As such, here seemed like as good a place as any to stop for the moment. Anyhow, it's a little cliffie, but I promise, I'll write more tomorrow..._


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: Nothing has changed._

_A.N.: There will come a time when this story is almost completely Harry-centric, unfortunately, things need to happen before that time that he can't do (being only nine years old makes it difficult to change the world, you under stand.) Without further ado, here we go. Thanks for the reviews, ya'll._

o 0 o

Harry felt his feet hit the ground and opened his eyes. The room they had arrived in was a moderate size, with richly colored wall hangings and a black marble floor. They were immediately greeted by a bellhop who bundled all their belongings onto a cart and led them to the desk to check in. The foyer of the hotel was very luxurious, the floor was, again, black marble with gold laced throughout, the walls a rich natural wood and blood red velvet drapes surrounded arched windows that reached to the ceiling ten meters up and overlooked the crystal blue waters of the Mediterranean.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his mother falter for a moment, then she straightened her shoulders and said, "Remus? Remus Lupin?" Harry whirled around eyes searching for the man he'd only heard about in stories, one of his birth father's best friends.

The only person who reacted to his mother's outburst was a man who looked much older than the 32 years he should be if the man was in fact James Potter's best friend. "Stephanie Abernathy?"

"Actually, it's Grey now, I've been married for almost ten years." Stephanie smiled. "This is my husband Marshall, and our unruly brood."

"Hey!" Harry protested, "I'm not unruly."

Stephanie laughed lightly. "We're checking in for the weekend." Stephanie hesitated, knowing that this decision could result in a confrontation with Dumbledore years sooner than she had planned. "Listen, Remus, would you like to join us for tea today?" Seeing Remus' hesitation, Stephanie continued, "I have some things I need to discuss with you. I would rather discuss them in a more private setting." She glanced down at her hand where she had cupped her wand so that Remus could see it.

Understanding lit Remus' eyes and he nodded, "I am finished with work at 3:30."

"Very well, come up to our rooms when you are finished, and we'll all find a tea room together."

Marshall handed Remus his credit card, Remus ran the card and handed Marshall a key for the room, "You are staying in suite 429, this is one of the nicer suites. It is in a corner and overlooks both the courtyard and the beach."

"Thank you," Marshall said, "We'll look for you around 3:30."

Remus nodded and Stephanie and Marshall herded Harry and Liz up to the room. Remus watched them go with a vague feeling of familiarity when he looked at Stephanie's oldest son. He mused on what Stephanie could possible need to talk to him about, having not seen her since Lily and James' wedding. Remus shrugged it off, but the niggling sense of curiosity never left him.

3:45 found Remus outside the door of suite 429 preparing to knock. Before could do so, however, the door popped open. "Hi! Come in, mum said she was thinking and the conversation she has in mind is better kept behind closed doors. So we're just going to take tea here in the suite, ok?" Stephanie's son half-whispered, all the while bouncing like an over-excited puppy. With that, the boy reached out and grabbed Remus' hand and hauled him into the front room of the suite.

Marshall was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper and the little girl was sitting on the floor, apparently preparing her dolls to take tea with the family. "Stephanie is changing Alex, she'll be here momentarily." Marshall said just as aforementioned spouse walked into the room holding a cooing baby.

"Ah, Remus, I'm glad you could make it. Have a seat and I'll get the tea and biscuits, there's a lot I need to talk to you about." Stephanie motioned to one of the arm chairs. "Harry, sit next to your father." She added, and then handed the baby to Marshall and walked out of the room. Stephanie returned a moment later with the tea set and poured a cup for each.

Once they were all settled in, Stephanie began, "Ok, Remus, our story starts almost eight years ago with an owl that was sent to me by Lily. She had a premonition of her death and wanted to make sure that her son would be well taken care of." Remus' eyes darted to where Harry sat next to Marshall. Stephanie noticed this and smiled, "The short of it is this: Lily wrote to me and asked me to take Harry and raise him, she also wrote to her sister Petunia and told her how to contact me if Harry here was left on her doorstep, which he was. I'm not sure what time Dumbledore left Harry at the Dursleys, but Petunia found him by nearly tripping over him in the morning." Remus growled low in his throat, the wolf very close to the surface with the full moon only a week off. "She contacted me and I met her and took Harry home with me. At the end of the week, just before we left the country, we stopped in at Gringotts to make sure that everything was in order. It wasn't—I won't bore you with the details but suffice it to say there were some lingering problems from the attack—so we had the goblins check Harry out and heal anything that required it. Lastly, Lily and James had written a letter to the goblins asking that I blood adopt Harry. In the end both Marshall and I ended up blood adopting him."

Remus looked hard at Harry, who grinned and waved, "Hi, Moony."

"Come here, Harry and let me get a good look at you," Remus nearly whispered. Harry grinned and complied. As Remus examined Harry, he commented, "You've got Marshall's hair—it is a very good thing that you didn't get James', his was all over the place—I can see James in the shape of your face, Stephanie in your cheek bones and Lily in you nose and lips. Your eyes are somewhere in between your two mothers', all in all, a very good combination." Remus smiled, "Now, cub, can you tell me about yourself? And how did you know that my nickname was Moony?"

"I know you're Moony from all the stories that mum has told me about my parents. Although, most of her stories are about my mother, since she didn't know my father that well. I just turned nine and mum got me permission to start learning magic at home this year! She said she was going to find someone qualified to teach me, but until she does, she'll help me with the basics. We have lived in Japan and Russia, so I speak Japanese and Russian. We just moved here this week, so I speak a little French, but I'm not fluent yet. Um, oh, yeah! I know jujutsu and kendo and I just finished grade 6 in school." Harry said, rapid-fire. Remus, snapped up at the last and looked at Stephanie.

"Grade 6?" Stephanie nodded, Remus refocused on Harry, "You're nine. How exactly does that work, Harry?"

"School is easy, I always got stuff done early and was bored, so my teachers let me work ahead. I didn't want to leave my friends so I didn't go too far ahead." Harry explained.

"He has an eidetic memory." Stephanie added.

"Ah." Remus nodded, "That explains it."

"What about you, Moony? What have you been doing for the last eight years?" Harry asked.

Remus looked down and fiddled with his now-empty tea mug, "As soon as I heard what happened _that night_, I rushed to Hogwarts to find out what had happened to you," Remus nodded at Harry, "I knew that they would never let me raise you, but at least I wanted to know where you were so I could visit..."

"Wait," Harry interrupted, "why didn't you think they would let you raise me?"

Remus sighed and hunched his shoulders, "I'm a werewolf." He waited for the recriminations he was sure would come and mentally prepared himself to be unceremoniously removed from the last remaining link to his pack.

"Oh." Harry said. "So that's why 'Moony'."

Remus' head whipped up to look at the boy, then glanced over at Marshall who merely looked curious, and at Stephanie who was smirking slightly and then over to the little girl who was playing quietly with her dolls, "Oh? That's all you say?"

"What would you prefer we say, Remus? Did you expect us to repudiate you? Perhaps to run screaming and throw out your mug?" Stephanie scoffed, "I suspected you might be, and it means nothing except that Harry has a great protection while you're around. I can trust that you will never let anything happen to him, he's part of your pack, right?"

Remus took a minute to process what she had said then picked his jaw up off the floor and replied sheepishly, "I suppose I expected something like that, and yes, Harry is my pack."

"Sweet!" Harry grinned, "Anyhow, you were saying, before I oh-so-rudely interrupted you?"

Remus snorted, "James' cheek, that is. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, so I went to Dumbledore. He told me that you were somewhere safe. Somewhere far away from all the chaos that surrounded your parent's deaths. I tried to get him to tell me where, but he refused, said that he wanted you to have a normal childhood away from anything magic and that I could meet you after you started at Hogwarts." Remus sighed, "I was taking classes at a muggle university at the time—James had forced a loan on me insisting that his interest rates were better than the muggle banks—because I can't get a job in the wizarding world. I returned to school and channeled my grief and anger into my schooling. That worked out nicely, as I graduated at the top of the class."

"What did you go to college for?" Harry asked.

"I hold a masters degree in education with a focus on high school aged children."

Stephanie raised her eyebrow and glanced over at Marshall. In the silent communication that only long-married couples have, he replied with a shallow nod.

"Well," Harry continued, ever the curious one, "If you have a masters degree and are a teacher, what are you doing working the counter at a hotel?"

"Harry!" Stephanie began, only to be cut off by Remus.

"No, Stephanie, it's fine. It is a natural question to ask. The answer is simple, this is my summer job. During the school year I tutor privately. This is perfect for me because I don't have to worry about explaining the reason I can't work during the full moon, I set my own schedule." Remus turned to Stephanie, "While we're on this topic, I need to pay back the loan that James gave me. I have the money, it's just sitting in the bank waiting for me to figure out how to get it back to Harry. Also, I've been living in a house that belongs to Harry, again, James insisted that I not pay rent until after I finished school. I tried to make arrangements with the goblins to pay rent, but they told me that I would have to get a contract from Harry before I could pay him rent. Obviously I couldn't find him to make the arrangements, so again, I've been depositing the money into a separate account to give to Harry when I finally got to meet him."

Stephanie mentally rolled her eyes, she had no intention of taking any of Remus' money, but she had to convince him to keep it without offending his pride, "Remus, first of all, the only reason that the cottage is not yours is because of ministry rules that preclude a werewolf from inheriting anything. That property is yours to do with as you wish, there is nothing you can say that will change that. As for the cost of your education? I'm almost certain that that amount or more would have been bequeathed to you if not for the werewolf laws as well." She raised her hand, stopping Remus' protest before it had even begun, "It's not charity or pity, Remus. It's honoring you best friend's last wishes."

There was nothing that Remus could say to counter that without sounding cold and emotionless, so he subsided with a grumble. Stephanie smirked and decided that a change in subject was warranted. "What about Sirius? How has he fared in all of this?" Remus narrowed his eyes and growled, Stephanie knew she'd said something wrong, but had no idea what. "What's wrong, Remus?"

Remus breathed deeply and reigned in his temper, they had been away for 8 years, there was no way for Stephanie to know what Sirius had done. "Black," he nearly spat the word, "is a filthy traitor and is rotting in Azkaban."

Harry's eyes widened, "What on earth did he do to deserve that?"

"Harry, he was your parents' secret keeper. He handed them over to be killed..."

"No!" Stephanie interrupted before Remus could get any further, "He wasn't. Peter was, Lily told me in her letter."

Remus froze, unable to get any other thought to process in his mind. His best friend was in hell on earth for something he didn't do. Remus slowly became aware of someone trying to get his attention. He took a deep breath, quashed his desire to howl and determined that he would break down later, now was most definitely not the time. "What? Sorry."

Stephanie smiled sadly, "What exactly happened, Remus?"

"I'm not sure of the specifics because I was still at university when it happened, but he was sentenced to life in Az-Azkaban for betraying Lily and James and killing Peter. According to the Prophet, Peter had cornered Sirius—several muggles heard him scream 'how could you do that to James and Lily'—and then Sirius threw an exploding hex that completely disintegrated Peter's body. According to the reports, the aurors apprehended him immediately thereafter and he was laughing maniacally screaming at how he had killed James and Lily."

Stephanie narrowed her eyes, something about that story was fishy. "How on earth was he convicted for something he didn't do—or at least part of it he didn't do, he may very well have killed Peter." She mused, to herself.

"Mummy?" A soft voice said from the end of the sofa.

"Yes, Lizzy?" Stephanie replied.

"Miss Joan is hungry." She indicated the doll that she was holding.

"Oh, is she now? Well, I suppose that means we should find some dinner." Stephanie turned to Remus, "Would you care to join us? I want to table this discussion for the moment, I will be looking into what happened when we return to Paris. In the mean time, we have an offer for you: would you be interested in working for us and teaching Harry magic as well as mundane studies? You don't have to answer right now, we can discuss the specifics over dinner. So, are you joining us?"

Remus glanced over at Harry who was looking at him with big, green, puppy-dog eyes. Remus knew that he would be taking every opportunity to spend with his cub. He grinned and nodded, "Dinner sounds fabulous."

o 0 o

Stephanie sighed in frustration. It had been a week since she found out that Sirius was in Azkaban, a week that she had been searching, fruitlessly, for the records of his trial. She had even gone back to England to visit the Daily Prophet offices and search back issues for any mention of what had happened. Remus had been a godsend this past week, he had taken the offer to tutor Harry and had been with him full time for the last two days. Liz and Alex were being watched by one of the staff at the ambassador's mansion while Marshall was at his office.

This morning, Stephanie had finally given up on trying to find out the facts of what had happened. By all appearances, it looked as if the ministry had denied the head of an Ancient and Noble house a trial. Now she was searching for properties that were owned by the Blacks. Perhaps she could find one in a country whose government was not as corrupt—not that it was hard—as the one in England and would be willing to work to free one of their wrongly-imprisoned citizens. That is, if she could figure out how to argue that Sirius was a citizen of which ever country she found.

By afternoon, Stephanie's spirits were lifted a bit. She had located several properties abroad that the Blacks owned, but most notably there was a country estate in France, outside Monaco; a townhouse in Venice, Italy; and an entire island in the Aegean Sea just off the coast of Greece. Because she was currently residing in France, she decided that that would be the place to start, she stretched and felt her back pop, first thing in the morning. Tonight, she was going to kiss her babies goodnight and sleep in her own bed.

Two days later saw Stephanie walking into the Département de l'application de Lois Magiques for her appointment to speak to the head of the aurors, Angelique Arsemeault. She only had to wait a few moments until she was shown into a very utilitarian office. Behind the desk sat a no-nonsense woman who looked to be in her late 40s.

"Madame Grey, I presume?" She asked, offering her hand.

"Yes," Stephanie replied, taking the proffered hand, "I have a few questions."

"Very well, I will do my best to answer them."

"Thank you. Now, first, what is required to be considered a citizen of Magical France?"

"The criteria is actually quite simple, you must own a residence in France, spend at least three weeks per year at said residence and pay taxes. Why do you ask this?" The head auror answered.

"There is a situation that took place in England eight years ago that is rather grave. A man was placed in Azkaban for a crime he did not commit and I cannot find even a footnote regarding his trial." Stephanie answered.

"And what is it you hope to achieve for this man?"

"It is my hope that the French Ministry can, if not get him freed then at least get him a trial. The man I am speaking of is Sirius Black. He is the Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. The family does own an estate in the south, although I do not know if Sirius spent any time at it after he left school as he was estranged from his mother. Sirius is the godfather of my son, Harry Potter." Stephanie added.

Madame Arseneault nodded, "You are hoping that he qualifies as a citizen so that we can force the English government to deport him back home where he can receive the trial he was not given there?"

Stephanie smiled, "Exactly."

"Is there a reason that this was not done sooner?"

"My husband is a muggle ambassador and we have been in the East for the last 8 years. We were unaware of the situation until recently."

"Monsieur Black may possibly be eligible to claim citizenship, however it will require the approval of the Minister. Additionally, if this endeavor is successful Monsieur Black may never be able to return to England."

"I think that he can live with that stipulation, Harry lives here as does Sirius' best friend. There truly is nothing in England to keep him there anymore." Stephanie agreed.

"Very well, you are in luck today. I know for a fact that the Minister is free of meetings for the morning. Come, we shall have this resolved today." Madame Aresneault motioned and Stephanie followed her down the hall, up one flight of stairs and to the Minister's office. The head auror knocked on the heavy oak door.

"Enter." The door opened and Stephanie and Madame Arseneault stepped into the room. "Angelique, what does the auror corps need today?" The Minister asked, not unkindly.

"Minister Baillargeon, this is Madame Grey," Madame Arseneault indicated Stephanie and proceeded to explain the situation to the Minister.

"Madame Grey, I believe that we can help you with this. It is about time that one of England's mistakes comes back to bite her in the ass, publicly if possible."

Stephanie smirked, "That would be most preferable. My son is quite distraught at the thought that the godfather that he has looked forward to meeting his entire life may, in fact, be quite insane."

The Minister's smile dimmed at that thought, "The use of Dementors to guard prisoners—no matter the crime—is a great offense. However, France has some of the best mind-healers in the world. L'hospital de St. Brigid has several healers who have also studied in the mundane world. This allows them to more effectively treat ailments that are not strictly magically-induced. Tell your son that the might of the French Ministry is behind him and we will have his godfather home where he belongs by Christmas. We will have to hold a trial once he's of sound mind, but if what you have told me is true, it will not be a problem."

Stephanie felt as though a boulder had been lifted off her shoulder. Now she could face both Remus and Harry with confidence when she got home.

o 0 o

It had been two months since Stephanie stepped into the French Minister for Magic's office and two months since France had publicly called for the return of its citizen, Sirius Black. The English Minister had dragged his feet, denying all culpability in the fiasco that had resulted. It was discovered that not only had there had never been a trial, the Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black had never even been questioned. The French had continued their public campaign until one month ago Sirius had been released into the custody of four French aurors and admitted to St. Brigid's. Amazingly, the man seemed to be of mostly sound mind. The mind-healers had high hopes that Sirius would recover completely. They were, however keeping him hospitalized for at least two months to monitor him and give his body time to physically recover.

Now, it was mid-October and Stephanie had taken Harry to Allée de Pamplemousse for some one-on-one time and to pick out some more books for his lessons. Harry's knowledge had progressed rapidly through the first-year charms and transfiguration curriculums at Beauxbatons, thanks to his perfect memory, and Remus had run out of books from which to teach him.

"Stephanie?"

Stephanie turned at the sound of her name, searching the shoppers for whomever had called her. Off to her right, she spotted them, a tall stately platinum blond woman a few years older than herself and a young boy about Harry's age who was obviously her son. "Narci." Stephanie breathed.

_o 0 o_

_A.N.: HA! I'm evil again. So sorry. I know that the ending feels a little rushed, I'm not completely happy with it either, however, the story must go on. Again, I'm at work and can only do so much here... I am considering a one shot from Sirius' point of view about his release and recovery. Until next time. Reviews make me happy._


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: It's still not mine._

_A.N.: OK, I attempted to fix some of the formatting issues I've been having when it comes to scene changes, I think what I did this time will work. If it does, I'll go back and fix the previous chapters so they are the same. This will hopefully make for less confusion._

o 0 o

Harry sat curled on the sofa in his sitting room, _Cultures and Traditions_ open on his lap. It was two weeks ago when his mum had come home looking extremely self-satisfied. She told he and Remus that, for all intents and purposes it appeared that the English Ministry had neglected to give Sirius a trial, and him the Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. It was the importance that she had given to Sirius' title that had Harry realizing that he had no idea what it even _meant _to be the head of a pureblood house. Specifically what it meant in England which—if all the stories he had been told were anything to go by—was a medieval and patriarchal society. It was then that he'd realized that _he_ was the heir to a prominent family in England and would be the head of that family when he reached his majority in 8 years. With that thought, Harry had searched out books on wizarding traditions and wizarding politics—which he hoped wouldn't be too different from the politics he had learned at his papa's knee—and devoured them in the evenings after his lessons with Remus had finished.

Harry's magical education was moving apace. The first day had been spent with Remus asking him questions at assess what Harry knew about magic. The next two weeks—less a four day weekend because of the full moon—were spent split evenly between magical and mundane lessons.

In the few weeks they had been living in France, Harry had fallen into a routine. He rose early in the morning to practice his kata. He had not yet found a suitable Sensei, but he was suitably advanced that he could practice on his own. After breakfast, Harry focused on his grade 7 subjects: math, English, French, science and world history. Afternoons were for magic, although at this point Harry was only learning theory and history. He found it interesting how frequently mundane and magical history intersected, during times of conflict there were frequently wizards pulling the mundane's strings behind the scenes. Tomorrow they would begin the application of the theory during his magical lessons.

The next morning, Harry met Remus at the front door and they made their way up to the rooms that Stephanie had commandeered for Harry's education. Harry could feel his magic thrumming under his skin, as if it shared in his excitement at being able to intentionally use it for something other than changing his hair color.

The morning was almost agonizing for Harry, he was convinced that the clock had stopped. Either that or someone had used a time-turner on him without his knowledge. He just wanted it to be afternoon already! Remus, as though sensing Harry's impatience, glanced at the clock and then back at Harry and chuckled.

"Ok, Harry, I see that we're not going to get much else done this morning. Honestly, you're a week ahead of where I expected you to be by now. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to break for lunch early and then afterwards we can work with the practical magic." Remus' chuckle became a full laugh as Harry quickly gathered up his study supplies and scampered down to the kitchens for an early lunch, shouting out his thanks as he ran.

After lunch they returned to the class room, Remus looked at Harry seriously, "Ok, Harry, before we start, I want to make sure that you remember the rules we talked about last week."

"Of course I do!" Harry exclaimed, "1. No magic outside this room unless I'm given permission, and none in this room without supervision. 2. Keep my wand in a holster, never my pocket. 3. Never point my wand at someone unless I intend to use it. 4. Never use a spell I don't know the effects of. 5. Absolutely no magic in front of mundanes."

"Very good, now, where is your wand?"

Harry flicked his wrist and his wand fell down into his hand from his wrist holster.

"I want you to put it on the table. I have a theory that I'd like to try with you." Harry looked at him questioningly, but complied. "My theory is this: I think that the reason that wandless magic is so rare nowadays is because we have become dependent on wands. The wands make it easier to access our magic, although the actual process of casting is rather difficult to learn. Each spell has a different wand motion that must be learned and must be perfect or the spell will go awry. Because you are still a child and have not yet become dependent on your wand, I'd like to see if you are able to control your magic wandlessly, then you can try it wanded."

Harry was intrigued at the idea, the theory made perfect sense. What was accidental magic, after all, if not uncontrolled wandless magic? If he could get this, it would be one more hidden advantage against any enemies that might wish him ill. Harry was not deluded, they had studied the Voldemort war last week, he would have enemies when he returned to England and some of them would likely not care that he was a child. Harry was determined to learn all he could to have the greatest advantage once he finally reemerged into society. He had just one question: "How?"

"We are going to start simple, by attempting to levitate this feather. You need to _feel_ your magic, it's right under your skin, direct it to your hand. Keep in mind what you want your magic to do and then cast. The incantation is _Wingardium Leviosa_. Don't get frustrated if it doesn't do anything at first, frustration will only make it harder to succeed. This is true even with wanded spells. You have to intend for the spell to succeed, and focus on only that, or it will not."

Harry nodded, he was very familiar with his magic—having succeeded in controlling his core when they lived in Japan. He took a deep breath and dove down to his core. He snagged a thread of it and mentally dragged it down his arm to his left hand. He figured if he trained in wandless with his off hand he might, at some point in the future, be able to cast wanded in one hand and wandless in the other at the same time.

He reeled the thread of magic and pooled some in his hand and opened his eyes. Focusing his mind on making that feather move, he intoned, "_Wingardium Leviosa._" The feather shifted on the desk as though caught in a draft but did not lift from the surface. Harry narrowed his eyes and concentrated harder, "_Wingardium Leviosa._" This time the feather lifted a few centimeters off the desk.

Harry glanced at Remus, his eyes were glued to the feather. "Very good Harry," he whispered. "Let's try a few more times and then you can try it with your wand." Harry nodded and refocused.

From then on, Harry's lessons took off. He still spent the morning working on his mundane schooling, except now Remus had combined his mundane and magical history lessons. Monday, Wednesday and Friday afternoons were for learning spells and practicing them; first wandlessly then wanded. Harry had become quite proficient, and usually was successful with each new spell on the second or third try wandlessly. Wanded was a little harder because the wand movements had to be perfect, but it only took him a few more tries to succeed. Tuesday and Thursday afternoons were spent on potions and herbology lessons.

o 0 o

The weeks flew by and soon Harry found himself learning the last spells in his grade 1 books. Remus had mentioned to his mum that he needed more books, so this afternoon they were going to Allée de Pamplemousse to find some, just the two of them.

Harry was browsing through the books on rare abilities when he heard someone call his mum's name. As far as he knew, no one in the magical community knew them here—unless it was one of the ministry officials they had dealt with when they were retrieving Sirius from English captivity, and they wouldn't call her by her given name. His mum said something under her breath and Harry turned to see who was calling her. A tall, cool-looking blond woman and her equally blond son were heading their way from the front door of the shop.

"Narcissa Malfoy," Harry's eyes darted to meet his mum's. He knew that surname, both from the book he'd been reading about influential families in Britain and from some of Remus and Sirius' stories of their school days. According to Sirius, they were evil swine who were to be avoided at all costs—unless they were being pranked. According to the book, they were fairly politically powerful.

Harry turned so that he was facing the bookshelves behind them and away from the approaching Malfoys. Harry caught his mum's eye and used his metamorph ability to create the illusion of a lightning bolt scar on his forehead with a question in his eyes. Stephanie shook her head and Harry let the illusion go, turning to meet these new people.

"Stephanie Abernathy," Narcissa said, and although her demeanor remained cold, Harry was sure that he saw a bit of fondness in her eyes. "Although I suppose you are married now." She cut her eyes at Harry for a moment.

"Yes, Narcissa. My married name is Grey. This is my oldest son, Harry. Harry, this is Narcissa Malfoy, she was five years ahead of me at Hogwarts and took me under her wing until I got my bearings." Harry's eyes snapped up to his mum, her voice was distant and her face was placid. It was not a look he was used to seeing on her except during papa's dinner parties. He recognized it as what she referred to as her 'Slytherin mask'.

Harry, remembering what he had read about pureblood culture, bowed slightly to Mrs. Malfoy, "Lady Malfoy, a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Narcissa nodded, "This is my son Draco." She indicated the boy at her side who was standing quietly at her side attempting to look disinterested in everything around him—and failing spectacularly. "Draco, say hello Madame Grey and her son." She prompted when her offspring did not immediately greet the duo.

Draco started slightly, "I am pleased to meet you, Madame Grey, Harry." His voice was clipped with a haughty aristocratic accent. Harry almost smiled at his affectations but stopped himself when he remembered all his mum had told him about being Slytherin. Any signs of emotion would not be appreciated in this exchange.

"So, what brings you to Paris Narcissa?" Stephanie asked.

"Draco is in need of new robes, he's hit quite the growth spurt since his birthday, and I wish for Madame LeFontaine to clothe him. And yourself?" Narcissa replied.

"Actually, we live here." Stephanie answered. "Harry has exhausted both his library and that of his tutor, so we are attempting to find some more advanced books for him to study." She nodded to the basket of books that sat at her feet. "We were actually just finished, would you care to join us for tea?"

"No, thank you Stephanie, we must be going, we have an appointment to keep. I'm sure we shall see you again."

"Yes, of course. If no other time then when the boys go to Hogwarts." Stephanie nodded.

Narcissa gave a sharp nod, gathered up her son and swept from the store.

"Come on Harry, let's go get some hot cocoa." Harry sighed in relief when the warmth was back in his mum's voice. "I will tell you about the Narcissa Malfoy I used to know." Harry nodded, he loved hearing any stories about Hogwarts and its inhabitants back when his parents were in school.

Once they were settled in a booth at the tea shoppe, Stephanie sighed. "Narcissa Malfoy—or rather Black—was like a mother hen to all the girls in Slytherin. Naturally, outside the house common rooms and dorms she was cold as ice, but once she was behind closed doors, she was very caring. She took it upon herself to make sure that all of us had everything we needed the first week. It wasn't her job, it was the prefect's job, but she did it anyway. She gave us directions on how to reach classrooms with the minimum difficulty and helped with homework if we needed it.

"Later, she helped us form study groups to prepare for exams, even going so far as to include some Ravenclaws to challenge us more. Because I was only half-blood, she took it on herself to make sure that I knew how to comport myself as a proper Slytherin. I don't know how many blunders I was saved from making because of her aid. When she was a seventh year, she and Lucius Malfoy became engaged and they married the summer after graduation." She stopped for a minute as their drinks were delivered.

"Mum, Sirius says that the family is no good but _Politics of England_ says that they are very influential. What is truth?" Harry queried.

"Lucius Malfoy was a sadistic man if ever I met one. He was ruthless and basically ran Slytherin when we were in school. Our head of house was much more interested in networking with students who had potential to become famous and raise his own status than he was in ensuring there were no problems within the house. He took pleasure from others' pain and thrived on verbal sparring. He could cut you to the quick without even trying.

"That said, he was—I'm sure he still is—an avid supporter of all of the 'pureblood ideals' that Voldemort put forth during the war. According to the papers that I read through when I was researching Sirius' situation, I found that he was arrested for being a death eater but claimed he was under the Imperius and was let off. I don't know how true it was—actually I'm fairly sure it was completely untrue—but it was his political power and prowess that allowed him to achieve that outcome and walk away unfettered. So, I suppose that the answer to your question is both." Stephanie sighed, "Just remember what I've always taught you: never judge a book by its cover, or in this case the son by the father, and _never_ alienate someone just because you don't like them..."

"You never know when they might be in a position to do something you want. I remember, mum." Harry smiled, finishing his mum's mantra.

"Yes, just so. Come, let's do some window shopping."

o 0 o

_A.N.: I think that's where I'll leave it for now. I think probably one or two more chapters till Hogwarts! _


	10. Chapter 10

_A.N.: OK, so after re-reading this chapter, I decided I hated how it flowed and the holes, so I re-did the chapter to hopefully improve the flow and fill in the holes. For those of you who read it the way it was before, how did I do?_

o 0 o

By mid-November, Harry's schooling had taken another turn. On Sundays, Harry learned the art of debate from his papa. He had completed his grade 7 studies and was now working on his grade 8 lessons. Although they lived in France, Harry wanted to take his GCSE's and hoped that he'd be ready for them by the following Christmas. Additionally, he hoped to take both his A-levels (for England) and the Baccalauréat (for France) in the summer before he started his formal magical training.

On the magical side of his education, when Harry had sped through Beauxbatons' second year lessons, Remus had declared that he wanted to branch away from the school's curriculum. He cited the fact that he didn't want Harry to be completely bored when he did go to school for this decision. Thus, Harry and Remus were focusing his magical learning on subjects that are not taught in school: magical theory, spell crafting, potions crafting, mind-arts, wand lore and alchemy to start—although they did save one day per week to focus on spell work.

Today, though was a special day. Today was the day that St. Brigid's released Sirius. The mind-healers had been pleasantly surprised to discover that Sirius had very few side effects from his 8 years with the dementors: he was not a gibbering idiot and, from the very start, was able to hold a relatively intelligent conversation. Sirius' maturity level, however, was stuck in his late teens—although Remus assured the healers that Sirius had always been quite immature for his age. Sirius was now physically and emotionally healthy enough to not require constant supervision, although he would have bi-weekly check ups for a few months to ensure he was regaining his physical strength and weekly meetings with a mind-healer for at least a year to ensure his complete recovery.

The day began like any other for Harry: he rose before the sun and went into the room he had appointed as his dojo to practice his kata, an hour later he was joined by Hank, one of his papa's security detail, and they sparred for a bit. Hank, Harry had discovered, used to fight mixed martial arts and was willing to spar with him despite his young age, and Harry had learned several new techniques from watching him.

After breakfast, Remus arrived, just like any other day. Today, however, they did not head up to the classroom. Today, Harry bid his mother good bye and they headed to St. Brigid's to retrieve Sirius. It had taken Sirius a while to come to terms with the fact that Harry had been raised by a Slytherin, however with the help of the mind-healers he had slowly matured in his thinking and accepted the fact.

Harry tapped on the door to Sirius' room, "Padfoot, you decent?" He always knocked first, the one time he hadn't had been quite embarrassing for all parties involved.

"I'm never decent, pup. But if you mean am I dressed, the answer is yes."

Harry snorted and led the way into the room. Sirius sat in the chair next to his bed looking nothing like the gaunt, matted man who Harry had first met two months previously. Now, Sirius looked every inch the powerful head of house that he was. His black hair was gathered in a tail at the nape of his neck that reached the bottom of his shoulder blades, he was dressed in obviously expensive robes that had the Black crest on the left breast, his face was far more lined than it had been in the pictures that Remus had shown him from 'before' but his grey eyes still sparkled with mischief and anticipation.

"Siri, you do realize how pompous you look, right?" Remus quipped.

Sirius pouted, "Don't you like it, Remy? I though it looked rather impressive." He waggled his eyebrows.

"Sirius, we're going to muggle Paris. You're going to be staying in the family wing of the mansion, true, but all the staff are muggle. There's no one to impress. If you showed up in that, they'd think you were batty." Harry giggled. "We brought one of my papa's suits for you to wear out of here, you're about the same size, and we're going shopping."

Sirius sighed dramatically, "Oh, well. I suppose I will just have to settle for wearing it to my questioning next week."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "That's really why you bought it, isn't it?"

Sirius shifted uncomfortably, "Perhaps."

"It's a good strategy, make sure they can't forget who they're dealing with. Even though we all know you have nothing to worry about. That's rather Slytherin of you." Harry added and ducked behind Remus.

"Hey! No reason to be insulting." Sirius huffed, but he was smiling.

"Come on, you two, let's go get Sirius a wardrobe." Remus interjected.

The rest of the morning and early afternoon was spent following an over-excited Sirius from one store to another. Sirius made sure to find at least one item to try on in each store they entered that was so inappropriate it had Harry in stitches and Remus spluttering in embarrassment. When Sirius finally declared it time to eat, they got take-away Chinese and ate on a conjured blanket, surrounded by a warming charm, in a secluded area of a park. Sirius had insisted that he must spend as much time outdoors as possible to make up for the time he lost.

After they had eaten, Remus banished the garbage and the trio laid on their backs and examined the clouds in the crystal blue sky. A few minutes later, the sound of wings was heard and a peregrine falcon swooped down and landed next to Harry's head. It stuck out it's leg which had a letter tied to it.

"Hmm, that's weird. Mum said I had been spelled un-owlable when I was a baby to prevent fan mail." Harry looked at the falcon and, after Remus had deemed the letter safe, retrieved the note. "Ah, that explains it. It's addressed to 'Harry Grey' not 'Harry Potter.'" Harry looked at the note speculatively then shrugged to himself and opened it. After a minute, Harry looked up at Remus, amusement evident in his eyes. "It appears that the elder Malfoy has encouraged his son to 'broaden his horizons' as far as acquaintances go. Draco says that he immediately thought of me, and wonders if I would consent to a pen-friend type of association. Although it is not in exactly those words, that is the gist of it."

Remus looked curious, Sirius, however, looked mildly horrified. "You're not going to attach your name to the Malfoy name, are you? They're some of the worst of the Slytherins, running around licking any dark lord's boots."  
Harry rolled his eyes, "Sirius, he doesn't even know who I am. Not really. There's nothing to gain for him in associating with me. There's also nothing to lose, as far as he knows. As far as he is concerned, I am the eldest son of one of his mother's old school acquaintances who lives out of the country. At the most he will get to feel important by being the one to introduce me to people when we get to Hogwarts. On the other hand, for me there is quite a bit to be gained from courting his friendship. Don't look at me like that Sirius, just listen," Harry interrupted himself, "I have no intention of associating myself with Malfoy the elder, but if I can influence Draco away from his father's bootlicking ways, that is a wonderful connection with the younger set of the 'dark' families. Aside from all that, it will be fun having a pen-friend who has no clue who I really am."

Sirius sighed, "I hate it when you're logical about things. When on earth did you become so politic?"

Remus grinned, "Siri, did you forget that his papa is a politician? He's been learning politics since he was able to talk. He's actually quite good at it. I'm glad that you're mature enough to see that it could be a good thing, it makes me very proud." Remus looked at Sirius fondly.

Harry jumped up, "Ok, enough heavy stuff. Come on, I want to get some Christmas shopping done while we're out and about." He turned to the falcon that had settled onto a branch of a near by tree, "I'll write a reply when I get home tonight. Find me in the morning and I'll send it with you."

o 0 o

The days seemed to fly by. Sirius had reported to the aurors offices for his questioning, as expected the only thing that Sirius was found guilty of was being an unregistered animagus. He was set with a small fine and was required to register his form. Harry had sent his reply to Draco accepting his friendship and they continued to exchange letters approximately once per week.

Harry's schooling continued apace, completing his grade 9 and 10 lessons by the next November. Harry sat his GCSE's the first week of December, 1990 and his A-levels and the Baccalauréat the following June. While not the youngest to ever sit the examinations, he was the youngest that particular year. As expected, he passed them all.

Harry also continued expanding his magical horizons, reading every obscure tome he could find and experimenting with the theories he discovered. Additionally, his mother had given him some books when he passed his GCSE's that she had found in Japan which were written in parseltongue. That had sparked an interest in parselmagic as well as magics based on languages other than Latin.

The one area of magic that Harry never delved into was black magic. He had studied some theory about it, but he remembered what Satou-sama had told him about the price of black magic and his promise to her not to delve into them before his magical core was stable enough to afford that price without negatively impacting his life. Sirius and Remus had both been quite leery when Harry had first expressed an interest in the theory, but after he explained what little he knew and what he intended to learn they helped him fill the gaps in his knowledge, learning about it themselves in the process.

o 0 o

A week before Harry's eleventh birthday, his mum, papa, Remus and Sirius sat him down after Lizzy and Alex had gone to bed.

"Okay, Harry. I promised you two years ago that you would know the whole story surrounding your adoption before it was time for you to go to Hogwarts. You turn eleven next week and I anticipate your letter will come shortly thereafter." Stephanie started. "You know the basic story surrounding our adoption of you. What you don't know is that originally you were left on your mother's sister's doorstep—we assume by Dumbledore. Petunia is a muggle and was quite jealous of Lily's talents when we were growing up. As such, had you been raised there it is likely that you would have been detested at best and abused at worst. We don't know if Dumbledore knew this when he left you there or not, but we suspect that he did. Fortunately, the premonition that Lily had included that small bit of information, and so she was able to communicate with her sister how to contact me if and when she found you on her doorstep.

"There were a few days between when you and your parents were attacked and when you showed up on Petunia's doorstep. Once we had custody of you, we decided to visit Gringotts to ensure that everything was in order regarding your inheritance. The first thing we found about that was that someone had accessed your trust vault and withdrawn a considerable amount of galleons. Unfortunately, the goblins did not know who made the withdrawal, only that they had your key. We immediately had that key nullified and access to your vault locked down. There actually are no active keys for your vaults right now,although your finances are being seen to by your account manager, Ironclaw. In order to get the keys, we will have to present ourselves to Gringotts, London, for a blood test. When we do that you will receive your family ring and letters that James and Lily wrote to you before they died. We also wanted to get the details of the bind that your parents had had the goblins put on your magic.

"While there, we decided to have them make sure that there were no lingering negative effects from the attack that had killed your parents. What we discovered was that there had been additional binds placed on your magic after the attack as well as a spell that would have attacked your attention span. Additionally, there is an anti-owl ward on you so that all mail addressed to 'Harry Potter' is rerouted to Hogwarts or returned to the sender, it's why you've not ever gotten any fan mail. Lastly, the goblins found that a sliver of Voldemort's soul had attached itself to you and was feeding off your magic. It was not enough to do you harm immediately, but as you got older it would have negatively impacted your character and learning potential. Naturally we had the goblins take care of them all.

"Now, we are not sure who placed the spells on you, although we suspect that it was Dumbledore, he apparently had custody of you for those four days after your parents died. That is a large part of the reason we had Remus start training you in magic two years ago, so you could defend yourself when you returned to England."

Harry considered everything his mum had told him. He knew that there were challenges to be faced in England, why else would he have gotten special dispensation to practice magic before school? He hadn't expected those challenges to come in the form of, arguably, the most powerful light magic wizard of the age—of the last _several_ ages, really. From the stories Remus and Sirius had told him over the years about their school days, Dumbledore seemed to be a benevolent, grandfatherly type with a penchant for mundane candies. Of course, appearances could be incredibly deceiving. Granted, his habit of allowing Gryffindors to get away with murder—almost literally—was a little telling.

Harry looked at Remus and Sirius, "Did you two know about all this?"

"Not all of it, Harry. I knew about the spells that were put on you," Remus answered, "Your mum told me about them to convince me that informing Dumbledore about your location would be a bad idea."

"Same here, pup," Sirius continued, "Although I only found out after this last Christmas. Apparently this lot wanted to make sure I was 'stable' enough to handle the upset. After all, Dumbledore was a great pillar of strength when I was a kid and defying my family."

Harry snorted, "You sure they waited long enough?"

"Oi!"

"Harry?" Stephanie broke in, "What are your thoughts, honey?"

"I think that if I knew the man personally, or had had any interactions with him, I'd be seriously pissed—"

"Language, Harry."

Harry grinned, "Blame Sirius, I do." Marshall snorted, "As I was saying, I'd probably feel betrayed and all that. As it is, I knew something bad was coming and was able to fortify myself for the blow. I am livid that someone thought it was OK to put those spells on me. But forewarned is forearmed, and I can be on my guard for anything that people who are supposed to be my allies are doing behind my back as well as what those who are supposed to be my enemies are doing in front of me."

o 0 o

When Harry arrived at the breakfast table on July 31, 1991, the first thing that he noticed was that Sirius was at the table already. While he did live at the mansion with the Greys, he was rarely up before ten a.m. The second thing he noticed was that Remus had joined them for breakfast. The third thing he noticed was the heavy parchment letter sitting at his place. There was a heavy red wax seal on it with a badger, a snake, a lion and an eagle surrounding a stylized H—the Hogwarts seal. On the front was the address written in green ink:

_Harry Potter _

_U.S. Ambassador's Mansion_

_Paris, France_

Harry grinned and broke the seal. There were two pieces of parchment, one was a list the other his acceptance letter. It read:

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc Chr. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and begins on 1 September. A member of our staff will be arriving at your residence shortly to answer any questions you may have._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress_

The second sheet simply held a list of supplies that Harry would need for his first year at school:

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Uniform_

_First-year students will require:_

_sets of plain work robes (black)_

_plain pointed hat (black) for day wear _

_pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

_winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)_

_Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags_

_Set Books_

_All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk_

_A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

_Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

_A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch _

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore _

_Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger _

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander _

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_

_Other Equipment_

_1 wand 1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) _

_1 set glass or crystal phials 1 telescope 1 set brass scales_

_Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad_

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST-YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS_

Harry looked over at his mum, "Mum, apparently they think that I'm muggle-raised. They're sending someone out to visit."

Stephanie smirked back at him, "I leave it up to you how you want to play this. Do you want to make it seem like you know nothing, or let it be known that you were raised magical? Obviously they are not all-knowing, because your name legally is Potter-Grey."

Harry considered his options, "I think I will allow them to think what they will, however that means that Remus and Sirius will need to be inconspicuous when whomever is visiting us is here."

At that moment the butler entered the dining room, "Begging your pardon, Ambassador, but there is a strangely-dressed woman in the entry way insisting that she be allowed to speak to you. What should I do with her?"

Marshall glanced at his wife, "Show her to the formal receiving room, Francis. Inform her that we are at breakfast at the moment but will join her as soon as we are finished eating."

Francis bowed, "Very good, sir."

When everyone had finished eating, Harry scooped up a giggling, two-year-old Alex and looked at his mum with a mischievous smirk, "Mum, thanks so much for getting me a big black dog for my birthday last week." He raised his eyes to Sirius, "Heel, Padfoot." Sirius let out a bark of laughter and transformed into his animagus form. Harry grinned, "And wasn't it wonderful that the previous ambassador's wife suggested the tutor she used for her daughter to help her catch up to the French children in case I had a difficult time adjusting?"

Remus grinned, catching on, "And what time does this tutor usually arrive, Mr. Grey?"

"Oh, in about 20 minutes." Harry looked at his papa, "Shall we go meet this strangely dressed lady, papa?"

Lizzy jumped out of her chair, "Race you there, Harry!" Harry took off after his little sister with his brother hanging off his back like a monkey, squealing in delight as Padfoot chased after the trio. Stephanie and Marshall followed their children at a more sedate pace.

Harry stopped his headlong rush just short of the formal receiving room doors and caught Lizzy around the waist as she rushed past. "Now, Lizzy," he said, conspiratorially, "We have to be on our best behavior in there. Unless the lady recognizes mum, we don't know about magic, ok? It's time to test your inner Slytherin."

Lizzy nodded solemnly, "My inner Slytherin is radical, dude."

Harry snorted, "You've been watching too much Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, kiddo."

Alex pulled on Harry's hair, annoyed at his ride coming to an end, "Cowbung!"

Marshall snorted as he plucked Alex's hands from Harry's hair, "That's right, little man, cowabunga. Now, let's see whom we have the pleasure of hosting today."

Marshall opened the heavy oak doors to reveal a blond woman who appeared to be in her early thirties. She was wearing a floor length blue taffeta dress in a style that was at least 100 years out of date, a black traveling cloak was draped over the arm of the chair next to her.

She stood as the family filed into the room, "Hello," she began in French, once they were all seated, "my name is Florence Dischneau and I am a teacher at Beauxbatons school for exceptionally gifted children. I am here to extend an offer for your son to attend our school."

Stephanie affected a confused expression, "What kind of school are you? Because Harry has already sat for his Baccalauréat and his A-levels."

Florence smiled indulgently, and had Stephanie not known what was coming, she would have been rather more offended by the condescending tone in the woman's voice, "We are a school of magic, madame, monsieur, magic is real and your son is capable of learning it." Seeing the families apparent unbelieving expressions, the woman pressed on, addressing Harry, "Haven't you ever done anything you couldn't explain? Especially when you were desperate or stressed?"

Harry looked at the woman skeptically, he didn't particularly care for the way she was talking down to his, apparently, muggle parents, "Once, my teachers' hair turned blue." He said, hesitantly.

Florence nodded decisively, "That is what we call accidental magic." She flourished her wand and opened her mouth to say something else when a tap at the door stopped her.

Marshall smiled, "One moment, please." He stood and went to the door where Francis stood, "Yes, Francis?"

"Monsieur Ambassador, there is another strangely dressed woman insisting to speak to you." Francis said, "I explained to her that you were in a meeting, but she was most insistent." He hesitated a moment, before continuing, "She reminded me very much of the sisters back in primary school, I found myself unable to deny her."

Marshall grinned at the butler, "I completely understand the sentiment. It is fine, I believe that she may be here for the same reason that Madame Dischneau is. Please, send her in to join us."

Francis nodded and left to retrieve the woman. When he returned a scant minute later, he was followed by a woman who appeared to be in her late fifties. She was dressed in a green plaid tartan and white starched shirt with a pointy hat held in her hand. As the woman entered the room, Padfoot started yipping and chasing his tail by Harry's chair.

"Paddy, enough or I'll put you out." Harry quipped. Padfoot stopped abruptly and looked at Harry balefully. "Don't you look at me like that, behave." Padfoot snorted and settled down on Harry's feet. Harry looked up at the new woman, "I'm sorry, ma'am, he's rather excitable today."

The new woman nodded shortly and took a seat, barely sparing a glance for the other adults in the room, "It is quite alright, Mr. Potter."

Harry glanced at his mum quickly, "It's Potter-Grey, ma'am."

The woman's eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion for a moment, "I am Minerva McGonnagall and I am a representative of Hogwarts school."

Stephanie nodded, "We thought you might be, this," she motioned to Florence, "is Florence Dischneau, and she is a representative of Beauxbatons school. She was just about to prove to us that magic exists and explain why we should send Harry to her school. We will allow you the same opportunity."

"As Florence arrived first, we will hear her arguments first." Marshall said.

Florence glanced smugly at Minerva, and turned to Harry, "As I was saying, when you turned your teacher's hair blue, that was accidental magic. Beauxbatons is the premier magical school of France, we are a boarding academy. At Beauxbatons, we will teach you how to control your magic," She flourished her wand again, "through the use of a wand. As you become more advanced, you will be able to do almost anything with magic. For example: _orchideous_." A bouquet of flowers appeared out of thin air that Florence proceeded to offer to Lizzy who giggled and accepted the flowers. "That is just a small example of things that are possible with magic."

Minerva addressed Stephanie and Marshall, "If I may say, you are handling this rather well."

"Well, we've always know that Harry was special, and odd things have always happened around him. It is actually a relief to know that there is a reasonable explanation for those oddities." Marshall said.

Harry nodded and looked expectantly at Minerva. Just as she opened her mouth to begin her spiel, there was another knock at the door. It opened and Francis poked his head through the opening again, "Apologies, sir, but monsieur Harry's tutor has arrived."

Harry smothered a grin, "Send him in, please."

Harry saw Minerva begin to object to a muggle that was not a member of the family being present when Remus walked in. "Mr. Grey," he began sternly, "we have much to accomplish today. What, pray tell, are you doing down here?" He stopped abruptly as he caught sight of Minerva and Florence, raising an eyebrow at their unconventional dress. He did a double take as he caught sight of Minerva's face. Harry inwardly applauded Remus' acting skills.

Stephanie stepped in to introduce Remus, "This is Harry's tutor, Remus Lupin. When we first moved to France two years ago, Harry was not where he was expected to be academically. The previous ambassador's daughter had a similar problem and his wife recommended Remus to us to help Harry along. We have been very satisfied with his performance." She turned to Remus, "Remus this is Minerva McGonnagall and Florence Dischneau. They are trying to convince us to send Harry to one of their schools."

Harry inwardly laughed at the flabbergasted look on Minerva's face. Florence just looked aggravated that anyone not herself was at the center of the family's attention. Remus managed to place a convincingly shocked look on his face when he was introduced to Minerva.

After a moment, Minerva managed to collect herself. "Remus. It has been a long time." She turned to the family, "Now, Hogwarts is one of the oldest schools of magic in Europe. It was founded over a thousand years ago. We will teach you much of the same things that Beauxbatons will, with the added benefit that it is the school that your parents attended."

"Wait," Remus butted in, after seemingly absorbing the shock of seeing his old professor, "what exactly do you mean, Professor? Harry's parents are muggles." He motioned to the couple sitting across from him.

Minerva looked askance at Remus, "Harry is a Potter, Remus. I take it you were unaware of this?"

Remus' jaw dropped rather convincingly, Harry thought, and he dropped to his knees on the floor at Harry's feet placing a hand on either cheek. He turned Harry's face one direction and then another seemingly looking for the resemblance to his birth parents. His shoulders were shaking with emotion, only Harry, who was directly in front of him, could see that that emotion was suppressed mirth rather than the tears that Minerva expected.

Stephanie turned to Minerva with wide eyes, "We had no idea, although it is rather fortuitous, don't you think? How long do we have to consider our options for Harry's schooling?"

Minerva pursed her lips, "Hogwarts would prefer a decision no later than the end of the week. Normally, I would offer to take you to Diagon Alley—the magical shopping district in London—or to Allée de Pamplemousse—the one in Paris—to purchase Harry's supplies for school; however, as you are obviously comfortable with Mr. Lupin, he would be able to show you where to go as well."

Stephanie nodded and turned to Florence, "And when will Beauxbatons require a response?"

"Beauxbatons, also, would prefer an answer by the end of the week."

Marshall nodded, "Very well, thank you ladies for taking the time to come see us. We will be in contact with you both by the end of the week with our decision. Francis will show you out."

The ladies, knowing a clear dismissal when they heard one, rose and followed the butler out of the mansion. As soon as the women had left the room, Stephanie put up a silencing spell and Remus lost his composure snorting in mirth. Stephanie grinned, "I'm impressed, Remus, who knew you were that good of an actor?"

Remus grinned at her, "Of course I am, I was a marauder after all. Do I even need to ask where Harry will go?"

"Not really, it has always been the plan for him to go to Hogwarts. Despite the difficulties I suspect he may face there, it is part of his heritage."

"I want to go to Hogwarts anyhow. I know that it may be challenging, but I'm up for it, you've made sure I had the preparation to be. I want to go to school where my parents went. All of them." Harry said decisively. "Hogwarts won't know what hit them."

Stephanie smirked, "Very well, then. I'll send the owl at the end of the week. It wouldn't do to relieve their tension too soon. I want to take you to Diagon Alley to get your supplies. It really is nothing like any of the other magical shopping centers you've even been to."

Harry grinned, "Okay, mum. We'll have Remus 'show us how to get there' next week, yeah?"

o 0 o


	11. Chapter 11

_A.N.: I fixed some of the holes, and combined two chapters. Now, continuing on. Here's some DD and MM for you._

o 0 o

**Hogwarts, June 25, 1991**

Albus Dumbledore sat in his tower office contemplating the coming school year. Although he had been wholly unsuccessful in his attempts to re-locate the missing Boy-who-Lived, he was confident that the boy was still alive. The Book of Witches and Wizards still held his name as slated to receive an acceptance letter. If the boy were no longer living, his name would have disappeared from the book.

Unfortunately, try as he might, he could not alter the magic of the book to reveal the location of the boy. It was the magic of the book that allowed the Hogwarts acceptance letters to be addressed with such precision, magic that had been originally cast by the Hogwarts Founders and as such was beyond his capacity to overcome. All there was left to do at this point was to wait a little over a month until the Quill addressed the envelope that would contain the young Potter's letter.

**Hogwarts, July 30, 1991**

Finally! The Quill had addressed the letter to Harry Potter. Albus considered the information on the envelope:

_Harry Potter_

_U.S. Ambassador's Mansion_

_Paris, France_

Well, that explained some things. Albus had been searching Britain for the boy when, obviously, he had some how gotten himself to the continent. A knock sounded on his door, after checking his wards and discovering that Minerva had come—probably for the envelope for Harry's letter—he admitted his Deputy.

"Minerva, what can I do for you today? Lemon drop?"

Minerva looked exasperated, "I am here for Mr. Potter's envelope so I can send his letter off." She held out her hand for the envelope.

Albus sighed and handed the address to his Deputy Headmistress.

Minerva glanced down at the address and inhaled, "U.S. Ambassador's Mansion, Paris? What, exactly is he doing there, Albus? Why is he being raised abroad? And by muggles, no less!"

Albus sighed, adopting his long-suffering, all-knowing, 'I-know-best' persona, "I left young Harry in the care of his maternal aunt, intending for her to raise him. She obviously had other intentions, as the family moved immediately after they were given custody of Harry. I searched for several years before I was able to locate Petunia Dursley. She claimed that they had left Harry in the care of an orphanage in London, one whose name she did not recall. I searched for several more years but had been unable to locate him, all magical means failed. Next, I had Severus attempt to find him the muggle way. This attempt was unsuccessful as none of the orphanages he questioned had ever had a child by the name of Harry Potter in their care. Finally, I checked the Book. The Book still had Harry's name in it, meaning that he is both alive and still answers to his birth name. I have been examining the Book no less than weekly for any changes. It never occurred to me to look for him abroad."

Minerva pursed her lips, "I told you those muggles were not to be trusted with raising Harry. Nevertheless, it appears that he has been raised muggle and as such will require a visit."

"Yes, I had intended to send Hagrid to retrieve Harry."

Minerva looked at Albus as though he had had one too many lemon drops. "Surely not, Albus. Hagrid, while well meaning, is not an appropriate person to introduce anyone to the concept of magic. Additionally, he is incapable of being discreet simply by dint of his size. I will go, I anticipate he will be one of my Lions, anyhow," she finished decisively.

"Very well, Minerva," Albus knew that there was no argument that he could make without having his Deputy become suspicious, "However, I wish for you to report to me after you return."

"Of course, Albus."

**U.S. Ambassador's Mansion, Paris, July 31, 1991**

Minerva stood outside the palatial residence of the U.S. Ambassador. She took a deep breath, and knocked on the door, in just a few minutes she was going to be confronted by the child of two of her favorite students. From what she remembered of Harry, she anticipated that he would likely resemble James—the Potter men tended to all look the same—and braced herself for the emotions she would likely feel. It would not do to break down in front of the child, especially as he would have no idea of the reason.

The door was opened by a stern looking man dressed in a butler's uniform. "Madame, Puis-je vous aider?"

"I'm sorry, I don't speak French. Do you speak English?" Minerva started, she had not considered that the family would not speak English. Especially since this was the U.S. Ambassador's residence.

"Oui, madame. 'Ow can I 'elp you?"

"I am here to speak to the Ambassador and his family, they are expecting me." Minerva said with her no-nonsense attitude.

The butler eyed her momentarily, then admitted her into the foyer. "If you vill vait a moment, I vill announce you." Without waiting for a response, the man turned and briskly walked down the hall. She only waited a moment before he returned, "If you vill follow me?"

Minerva followed the butler down a lavish hall to an ornate set of oak double doors. The man opened the door to reveal three children, one man, two women and one very large black dog. The dog immediately started yipping and turning circles around the child who Minerva assumed was Harry. He did not look anything like she expected. His hair was as sleek black as a raven's wing and fell straight around his ears, his eyes, while green like Lily's had been, were not quite as emerald and while she could see some homage to James in the shape of his face, she was not confronted with the look-alike she had braced herself for.

"Paddy, enough or I'll put you out." The boy she assumed was Harry scolded his dog which stopped its excited yipping abruptly, she assumed the dog was reacting to the scent of her animagus form. "Don't you look at me like that, behave." The boy looked up at her, "I'm sorry, ma'am, he's rather excitable today."

Minerva nodded and settled herself into one of the seats provided, "It's quite alright, Mr. Potter."

"It's Potter-Grey, ma'am." Minerva was startled at the tone in the boy's voice, but shook it off.

"I am Minerva McGonnagall and I am a representative of Hogwarts school."

"We thought you might be," The woman, who Minerva assumed was Harry's adopted mother interrupted. Minerva looked at the blond woman for a moment, she looked vaguely familiar. "This," she motioned to the other woman in the room, "is Florence Dischneau, and she is a representative of Beauxbatons school. She was just about to prove to us that magic exists and explain why we should send Harry to her school. We will allow you the same opportunity."

"As Florence arrived first, we will hear her arguments first." The man whom she assumed to be the Ambassador stated.

The Beauxbaton's representative looked rather smug as she launched into her pitch, "As I was saying, when you turned your teacher's hair blue, that was accidental magic." Minerva tuned out the pompous French woman, inwardly smiling, turning a teacher's hair blue was such a marauder thing to do. "...through the use of a wand. As you become more advanced, you will be able to do almost anything with magic. For example: _orchideous_." A bouquet of flowers appeared that Florence then offered to the little girl who giggled and accepted the flowers. "That is just a small example of things that are possible with magic."

Minerva looked at Harry's adoptive parents, she had delivered this bombshell numerous occasions, and rarely had she seen muggle parents so composed after such an unbelievable revelation, "If I may say, you are handling this rather well."

"Well, we've always know that Harry was special, and odd things have always happened around him. It is actually a relief to know that there is a reasonable explanation for those oddities." The Ambassador answered.

Harry nodded and looked expectantly at Minerva. Suddenly, there was another knock on the large oak doors and the butler peered through the now open door, "Apologies, sir, but monsieur Harry's tutor has arrived."

"Send him in, please." Harry answered.

Minerva started to object, muggles outside the family were not allowed to know about magic, when the tutor entered the room. Any objection that Minerva thought to put forth died a swift death. Before her was a man who appeared prematurely aged, before her stood Remus Lupin. The same Remus Lupin who had been like a brother to James Potter. The same Remus Lupin who had disappeared days after James and Lily had been murdered. Minerva was somewhat snapped out of her stupor when Remus began taking Harry to task for not being where the man apparently expected him to be. "Mr. Grey, we have much to accomplish today. What, pray tell, are you doing down here?"

Harry's mother stepped in to complete introductions, "This is Harry's tutor, Remus Lupin. When we first moved to France two years ago, Harry was not where he was expected to be academically. The previous ambassador's daughter had a similar problem and his wife recommended Remus to us to help Harry along. We have been very satisfied with his performance." She turned to Remus, "Remus this is Minerva McGonnagall and Florence Dischneau. They are trying to convince us to send Harry to one of their schools."

Minerva studied Remus, he looked just as shocked as she herself felt. After a moment, Minerva managed to collect herself. "Remus. It has been a long time." She turned to Harry, "Now, Hogwarts is one of the oldest schools of magic in Europe. It was founded over a thousand years ago. We will teach you much of the same things that Beauxbatons will, with the added benefit that it is the school that your parents attended."

"Wait," Remus interrupted, "what exactly do you mean, Professor? Harry's parents are muggles." He motioned to the couple sitting across from him.

"Harry is a Potter, Remus. I take it you were unaware of this?"

Remus' jaw dropped, and he fell to his knees on the floor at Harry's feet placing a hand on either cheek. He turned Harry's face one direction and then another looking for the resemblance to Lily and James that he had not noticed before. His shoulders were shaking with emotion.

Harry's adoptive mother pulled Minerva's attention away from the reunited duo, "We had no idea, although it is rather fortuitous, don't you think? How long do we have to consider our options for Harry's schooling?"

Minerva pursed her lips, surprised at the abrupt return to the purpose of her visit, "Hogwarts would prefer a decision no later than the end of the week." Truly, Minerva thought, there was no other option for the Potter heir. For Harry Potter to not attend Hogwarts? Preposterous. "Normally, I would offer to take you to Diagon Alley—the magical shopping district in London—or to Allée de Pamplemousse—the one in Paris—to purchase Harry's supplies for school; however, as you are obviously comfortable with Mr. Lupin, he would be able to show you where to go as well."

The woman nodded and turned to Florence, "And when will Beauxbatons require a response?"

"Beauxbatons, also, would prefer an answer by the end of the week."

"Very well, thank you ladies for taking the time to come see us. We will be in contact with you both by the end of the week with our decision. Francis will show you out."

Minerva found herself unceremoniously ushered out of the room and out of the mansion. She looked at the woman who had attempted to tempt Harry to attend school outside of his native Britain. "He will be attending Hogwarts, I can assure you of that."

The woman snorted indignantly and apparrated away.

**Hogwarts, July 31, 1991**

Albus Dumbledore sat in his office impatiently waiting for the return of his Deputy. She had left an hour ago to meet with Harry Potter and his muggle family. While it was disappointing that he was unable to use Hagrid to introduce the child to magic, and hopefully ingrain a hatred for all things dark and Slytherin, Minerva was a decent second choice. While the woman was rigidly fair in her dealings with her students, she would most definitely tell the boy about his parents and steer him towards his destiny as the Gryffindor hero and martyr.

A knock on the door pulled Albus from his musings, he did not expect Minerva to be back so quickly. He spared a moment for panic that all had not gone well in the meeting with the young Potter, then quickly dismissed it, there was no way that anything could go wrong now. The wards on the door, surprisingly, indicated that both Minerva and Severus were outside his office. That was odd, he hadn't summoned Severus and the man very rarely was in the castle during the holidays, "Enter Severus, Minerva."

The door opened and the duo entered the office. "Severus, what brings you to Hogwarts this afternoon?" Albus decided to first address the sour-looking professor.

"Headmaster, I recalled that this year we are expecting the Potter brat, if he has been found, and I wished to enquire if I would be required to suffer the brat's presence."

Albus smirked inwardly, it seemed that the infamous Potter-Snape feud was still alive and well. "It is rather fortuitous that you arrived when you did, Severus. Minerva has just been to see the boy. It seems that he was adopted into a muggle family who then went abroad. This explains why we have been unable to locate him all this time."

Severus raised his eyebrow and looked at Minerva.

"Yes, Mr. Potter has been raised as a muggle. His adoptive father is the U.S. Ambassador to France. I am unsure what his mother does—she looked a bit familiar, but I can't place why—although they do have two other children. When I arrived at the residence, a representative from Beauxbatons was already introducing the family to the reality of magic. They were amazingly accepting of the concept." Minerva paused, "Most shockingly, however, was when the boy's tutor entered the room. Apparently young Harry required extra help to bring him up to par with French schooling expectations. His tutor was none other than Remus Lupin."

Albus' eyes widened, "Was Mr. Lupin aware of Mr. Potter's identity?"

"No, he was entirely overcome when I informed him of his young charge's true identity. He had been calling him Mr. Grey." Minerva hesitated, "I also believe that the record should be altered to show Mr. Potter's last name as 'Potter-Grey' rather than simply 'Potter'. He was rather cold to me when called him simply 'Mr. Potter.' Lastly, but least worrisome, I think—especially as Remus is there to convince Mr. Potter—the family have not formally accepted Mr. Potter's offer. His mother said they would be in touch by the end of the week."

Albus was inwardly annoyed, not that it showed outwardly. That the Potter heir had not immediately accepted his position at Hogwarts rankled a bit. However, the child had no way of knowing his destiny, it was Albus' duty, and pleasure, to lead the child to his fate. Remus Lupin's presence in the child's life so early was an unexpected spanner in the works, but it could prove fortunate. Remus had always looked at Albus as the sole reason that the lad had been allowed to receive his education. Surely, now that he was aware of the young Potter's true identity, he would regale the child with stories of his parents and the wonder that is Albus Dumbledore.

"Very well, Minerva, alter the rolls to identify Mr. Potter as 'Potter-Grey.' I will await his response, but I do not expect a negative reply. Was there anything else that needed to be addressed?"

As there was no other business, Albus dismissed his two Heads of House and continued his plotting for the young Potter's first year at school. He needed to see just how the child had been raised, and also needed to assess the child's power and willingness to do the 'right' thing as determined by Albus Dumbledore. He might need to release some of the boy's power, not all of it, mind, but just enough to allow the child to be seen as the powerful child the public expected to see.


	12. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer: I think I forgot this last time, but it really hasn't changed. Harry Potter remains the property of the wonderful J.K. That's not me._

o 0 o

Saturday morning came quickly and found the Greys preparing for the day in London. Remus and, much to Remus' ire, Sirius were joining them. Stephanie checked Alex's bag to make sure that there were enough supplies for the toddler for the day. She glanced outside and saw that Marshall had pulled the van around and was ready to go. "Harry, go let Remus and Sirius know we're ready to go."

Harry nodded and trotted off to one of the many sitting rooms on this level of the mansion where Remus had dragged Sirius in a last ditch effort to convince the man not to show himself in England.

"...don't go. I don't want to lose you again." Harry paused outside the room, hesitant to interrupt his two semi-uncles in a—shudder—_tender_ moment.

"Remy, don't worry about me. I'm a big boy, and besides, I'm a wizard, in case you 'd forgotten. I was planning to glamor myself. I'm not a complete idiot."

Harry, deciding it was most likely safe to enter the room, tapped on the door and opened it. Remus and Sirius were standing by the large bay window facing each other. Remus had his right hand on Sirius' cheek and Sirius had his left hand on Remus' arm. Both looked towards the door as Harry opened it.

"Come on, guys. Papa's ready to go." Harry paused, "Sirius, if anything happens to you, I may never forgive you."

Sirius walked over to Harry, "Pup, don't worry about me, okay? I'm going to be extra careful." He stopped in front of Harry, "I really do need to see the goblins at Gringotts."

Harry sighed and nodded. "Let's go."

o 0 o

Harry stumbled a little as the portkey set him down. He had gotten better at the landing over the years, but it was still his least favorite method of magical transport, although it was better than the lengthy mundane alternative. He glanced over at his mum and baby brother. Alex was strapped to a carrier on his mother's chest, but it was obvious that he did not enjoy that either. The family made their way through Heathrow to the car rental desk. Marshall had called earlier in the week to reserve a van for their use.

Forty five minutes later, they stood outside the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. Harry could feel the magical tingle that indicated the wards protecting the entrance to the magical world from discovery. The entrance to the pub, located between a book shop and a record store, was rather dingy looking and the interior was not much better. The windowpanes were very grubby and looked as if they could use a good scrubbing, the floor was covered in a thin layer of grunge and the bar tender—who was very wrinkled, hairless and toothless—was wiping the glasses out with a visibly soiled rag. Needless to say, the family did not linger inside, but hurried out through the back to the entrance to Diagon Alley.

Harry smiled as his mum tapped the brick that would open the entrance to the magical world. As the bricks slid to the side and reformed an arch, Harry stopped. This was nothing like he expected, although in hindsight he shouldn't really have been that surprised. It looked like something out of a Dickens novel. Whereas Paris was sleek, Moscow was earthy and Tokyo was epicurean, London was very antediluvian. The alley itself was rough cobblestone, the store fronts were antiquated and the people hustling through them would not have looked out of place at a Renaissance Fayre.

"Come on, Harry," Harry was jolted out of his musings by his mum, "we need to go to Gringotts first."

The goblins bank was by far the most imposing building in the alley. It stood white and gleaming at the end of the block. Inside the bank was filled with witches and wizards bustling around. Sirius dropped his glamor as soon as he walked into the bank, the goblins did not take kindly to disguises and had ways of detecting the same.

"Sirius, you go first, your business with the goblins will likely take more time than ours. If we aren't in the atrium when you come out, meet us at Flourish and Blotts, alright?"

Sirius nodded and headed to an available teller. He spoke to the goblin for a moment and was led down the hall to the account managers offices. It was none too soon. As Sirius was almost out of sight, a person who most certainly would have recognized him entered the bank. The man was gargantuan. Harry was certain he was part giant—although he didn't want to consider the mechanics of the relationship that lead to the man's birth. _(A.N. I can't write Hagrid's speech. So I'm not going to try.)_

Remus let out a relieved breath, "That is Rubeus Hagrid, he's the grounds keeper at Hogwarts and very loyal to Dumbledore. He was also very fond of James and Lily." The large man caught sight of Remus and headed over towards them, "He's going to come over here, he is completely incapable of discretion, Harry. If he somehow recognizes you, the entire bank will know who you are."

"Remus!" The big man's voice boomed, drawing attention to the small group.

"Hagrid." Remus intoned. "What brings you to Gringotts today?"

"I'm on a mission for Dumbledore." Hagrid said importantly, "And yourself?"

"We're here to get money for my school things." Harry cut in, "And it seems to be our turn, if you will excuse us?"

Hagrid nodded and the small group walked to the goblin's desk. "Good morning, master goblin," Harry began, "I need to speak to Master Ironclaw."

The goblin bared his teeth at Harry, "And who might you be?"

"I am Harry Potter-Grey, Ironclaw has been managing my accounts since I was a year old."

The goblin turned abruptly and disappeared through the door behind the counter.

"Remus, I don't know how long this is going to take, and I'm sure that Marshall and the children would rather see the alley than wait on us." Stephanie glanced at Marshall and he nodded.

"I'll show them around a bit then. We'll meet you in Flourish and Blotts in say half an hour?"

Stephanie nodded, "Assuming we only take that long."

As the foursome left, Remus turned to Lizzy, "How about I show you Magical Menagerie? There are all sorts of magical animals there, and if you're good, we can go to Flourean Fortescues for ice cream after we get all of Harry's things."

Lizzy bounced in delight, "Yes, please?" She turned to her papa, "Papa, can I have a pet?"

Marshall chuckled lightly, "We'll see, darling. Remember, we live in a mundane area, so you can't have anything overtly magical."

Harry looked at his mum, "You know, she's going to come home with a pet of some sort."

Stephanie sighed, "I know, those two men are practically incapable of telling her no."

The goblin returned to his counter and said gruffly, "You will follow me." And turned to lead Harry and his mum into the labyrinthine halls of the bank.

Ironclaw's office was just as Stephanie remembered it, imposing and ornate. The goblin behind the desk looked up as they entered. "Lady Grey, young Lord Potter-Grey."

Stephanie nodded to him and they took their seats in front of the desk, "Ironclaw."

"First, we need to confirm your identity, please place three drops of blood on this parchment." After Stephanie and Harry each donated the required blood, Ironclaw continued, "Very good, young Lord Potter-Grey, here is the key to your trust vault."  
"Thank you, Ironclaw." Harry began, "What can you tell me about the state of my accounts?"

"Young Lord Potter-Grey, your accounts are in good shape. Your considerable worth has almost doubled in the past decade. I have invested in both the magical and muggle worlds, you own considerable stock in several electronics companies as well as both Nimbus and Cleansweep broom companies. Additionally, given who you are I thought it might be prudent to own the majority of the Daily Prophet. It does not make you a lot of profit, but, given the state of wizarding journalism, I thought you might appreciate it."

Harry grinned, "I thank you for that, Ironclaw. That is indeed a good investment, even if I lose money on it. Which electronic companies have you invested in?"

"Both Sony and Macintosh, they are turning quite a profit at this point."

"Very well, continue on as you have been."

Ironclaw nodded, "Now, the only additional thing I have for you is to deliver the letters from your parents. These letters were delivered to me just before the attack on you and your parents with instructions to give them to you when you arrived before your first year at Hogwarts." Ironclaw handed Harry the two letters, "Will you be needing to withdraw any money from your account today?"

"Yes." Harry answered at the same time that Stephanie answered "No."

Stephanie looked at Harry, "There is no need for you to get any money out of your trust, your papa and I will provide the money for everything you need."

"I know that mum, but I wanted some extra spending money."

Stephanie sighed, "Very well, but not much. No more than 10 galleons."

Harry sighed, "Yes, mum."

"Young Lord Potter-Grey, if you wish I can retrieve the funds for you while you read your letters?"

"Please, Master Ironclaw, I would appreciate that." Harry answered distractedly, examining the letters in his hand. He sighed and opened the first letter. The handwriting on the envelope was quite messy.

_Dear Harry, _

_Hello, prongslet. If you are reading this than your mother and I have died. Your mother insists that this is a very likely outcome based on her dreams. I never took your mother for a seer, but she always did seem to have a sixth sense about her. Anyhow, I am writing this letter to make sure you have all the required information about your heritage. I hope that you have been raised as a wizard, but on the off chance that you weren't: surprise! You are the heir to one of the oldest families in England. I would prattle on and on about who you are descended from, but really, most old families can trace some link to the Founders or Merlin, it's honestly not that difficult._

_As the heir to the Potters, you stand to inherit a seat on the Wizengamot—which your mother tells me is something like the muggle House of Lords—a considerable fortune, and several homes scattered over the world. Ironclaw has been the goblin in charge of our accounts my entire life. Most wizards are distrustful of the goblins, I hope you are not that way. Ironclaw has never steered the Potters wrong. In fact, our wealth has grown substantially under him. You won't have to worry about those things for another four years, though._

_My advice to you, son, is this: live your life the way you want to, love whom you feel deserves it and don't marry for anything less than true love, laugh loud and often. Prank indiscriminately, but don't be cruel. That is one of my regrets, the Marauders were a bit overzealous in our pranking of certain individuals. Learn to be an animagus, it's amazing. Study hard, but make time for other endeavors. I hope you got your mother's intelligence, although I'm smart, she's brilliant. Play quidditch, if just for fun. No matter where your life leads you, know that I a proud of you. Don't ever let anyone tell you differently._

_Lastly, look up Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, if you don't already know them. They were my best friends and brothers in school. They can tell you all sorts of stories about your old man when he was your age. Take care of yourself, and stay safe._

_Love always, your father,_

_James Potter (Prongs)_

Harry smiled sadly at his father's letter. He'd heard all sorts of stories about their school days from Remus and Sirius, but getting this letter made the man seem all the more real. He looked at the second letter, this one neatly addressed.

_Dear Harry, _

_Hello my darling son. If you are reading this, then your father and I have died. Know that we did not go willingly or without a fight. Right now, you are sleeping in your crib by my bed. I wanted to write this letter to you to ensure that you know about us. I know that you are only eleven right now and some of this may not make sense entirely, but as you get older it will. _

_The wizarding world is in a state of civil war right now. The leader of the dark is a sadistic, evil man. It is his goal to wipe out the muggles and muggleborn. He claims to be the heir of Slytherin. Because of this, the wizards in the UK now label all who are sorted into Slytherin as dark and evil. They're not, and if the arrangements I've made for you are honored, you know this. The prejudice of the UK wizarding world is a viscous circle. The 'light' wizards believe that the Slytherins are all 'dark' and shun them. Then the Slytherins seek validation wherever they can find it, this ends up being with the 'dark' and then the 'light' says "ha, we were right." And so it continues. Please, don't fall prey to prejudices. Let each witch and wizard be measured on their own merits and not something an old hat says when they were eleven._

_I'm rambling, at any rate, if you were raised by my best friend, as I have requested, the entire last paragraph is moot. If you were not raised by her, then I want you to find her. Stephanie Grey is the wife of one of the American Ambassadors. I'm not sure where they will be stationed by the time that you read this. She's a witch, so I suppose if you send an owl it will find her._

_Back to my point, the war. Your father and I are, unfortunately, at the forefront of the war. Actually, it's you that is at the forefront. There was a prophecy made before you were born that possibly implicates you as the one who can end it all. I don't know the exact wording as Dumbledore will not share that information with anyone. Unfortunately, the dark tosser got wind of part of it and has now targeted our family. We're doing everything we can, but I fear it will not be enough and we will be taken from you. Know that whatever you decide to do, your father and I would support you. _

_Live your life for yourself, don't let a prophecy dictate ANYTHING you do. Surround yourself with friends and family. Your father probably won't tell you this, but start making connections early. As the heir to the House of Potter, you may need the connections you make in school later in life. Don't alienate anyone. Don't tolerate any crap. Learn to write with a quill before you go to Hogwarts. It's not nearly as easy as writing with a biro._

_Respect your teachers, they do have things to teach you. If Severus is still the Potions Professor, know that he may be a bear. He and your father's friends did not get on at all, but he was my best friend for 9 years. Give him a chance, but don't let him walk all over you either. _

_I love you, my son._

_Your mother,_

_Lily Potter _

Harry carefully folded the letters and returned them to their envelopes and looked up at his mum. The woman who his mother had chosen to raise him in her stead. He couldn't help but think that his mother chose well.

"Come, Harry, let's go get your school things." Stephanie said softly.

Harry nodded and abruptly hugged her, "Love you mum."

"Love you too, son. Now, chin up." She tapped her finger under Harry's chin, "There's a good lad. Now, we're going to go out of this bank and enjoy the rest of the day, yeah?"

Harry grinned, "Of course, mum. I'm getting a familiar today, after all." He held out the letters, "Can you put these in your bag? I don't want them getting all crunched up."

"Sure, Harry. Now, grab your money bag and let's go."

Harry looked at the desk surprised, apparently while he was engrossed in his letters, Ironclaw had delivered the money from his vault and left again.

The rest of the day flew by with few occurrences of note. In Flourish and Blotts there was a whole crowd of red-headed children that Harry had to thread his way through to get to the books. He did hear one of the boys say that wasn't it awesome that the boy-who-lived was going to Hogwarts this year and that he was sure they would be best friends. Harry wasn't so sure. He was fairly certain that anyone who called him by that ridiculous title would be an acquaintance at best.

The visit to the apothecary was entirely uneventful. The ice cream a Fortescues was very good. They considered buying Harry's robes at Madame Malkins, but after looking at the styles available, Harry decided that he really did not want to wear the boxy robes that were available in London. He would prefer to go to Allée de Pamplemousse and get robes that fit properly.

The next stop on the agenda was Ollivander's for a wand. They had discussed how to handle Harry's having a wand already and it was decided that they would see if there was a wand that would bond to him at Ollivander's. Even though Harry had his dark-light wand, that was something he'd rather keep to himself. At any rate, it wouldn't be a bad thing to have two wands. The store itself was small and dingy, dust motes danced in the sunlight that came in through the door. The air in the shop tingled with the magic of hundreds of unbonded wands.

When the group first entered the shop, Mr. Ollivander made sure to impress them with his knowledge about every wand he'd sold. Describing Lily and James' wands as well as Stephanie's and their strengths and weaknesses before he began to try to find a wand for Harry. It took half an hour and probably four dozen wands before a wand felt even remotely right to Harry. The wand was a Holly and Phoenix feather wand that was apparently the brother wand to Voldemort's. Harry sighed, well, that wand wouldn't do him any good at all when he eventually had to face the tosser.

The final stop of the day was Magical Menagerie to see if Harry's future familiar was there. The shop was very warm from the body heat of so many animals. Harry wandered through the shop looking at the different animals and opening his magical senses to feel if any of them tugged at him. There were gerbils and hamsters in the front, toads farther back near the snakes. Harry half expected one of the snakes to call to him because of his parseltongue ability, but none did. There were puppies and kittens, crups and kneezles, rats and mice. In the back of the store were the post birds. There were ravens and hawks and all manner of owls. As Harry made his way through them, a snowy white owl swooped down and landed on his shoulder. He could tell immediately that this animal was the familiar for him.

As the family headed back to Heathrow to catch a portkey back to Paris, Harry turned to Sirius, "Siri, will you make sure I know how to properly write with a quill before I go to Hogwarts?"

Remus stared at the boy surprised, in all of their studies they had never even thought to practice that particular skill.

"It's just that, if I'm going to do well in my assignments, I suppose that it would be best if I could handle their archaic writing instruments. And who better to teach me how to properly use said implement than our own high and mighty head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black."

Sirius snorted, "Yes, pup. I'll make sure you are sufficiently proficient before you go to school." He intoned snottily.

The whole van laughed at Sirius' airs. Harry sighed, he had one more month to enjoy his family and then he was off to boarding school. He'd never spent more than two weeks away from his family at any one time. It was definitely going to take some getting used to, that was for sure.

o 0 o

_A.N.: Alright, this chapter just did not want to come out of my head! I had to pull it kicking and screaming. I'm hoping that it is OK. Chapters now will probably take a little longer simply because I have to figure out a good way to marry my own story with the aspects of cannon that I am keeping without being redundant to JK or completely boring. Any ideas what to keep or throw appreciated. Yes, I'm the author, but I'm writing this for your enjoyment. Tell me what you want and I'll work it in if it fits._


	13. Chapter 13

_Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine._

_A.N.: Sorry for the wait, life interfered._

o 0 o

The final weeks before Harry left for Hogwarts were spent in a flurry of action. Sirius and Remus wanted to make sure that Harry was prepared for every eventuality. This meant copious amounts of researching for obscure spells, hours of quizzing and ensuring that Harry had at least passable occlumency shields. His meditation and jujutsu training was paying off dividends in this. Unfortunately, as none of the adults were Legilimens, there was no way to definitively check them. Harry, however, was confident that he could at least detect an attempt and keep his shields in place long enough to break eye contact.

When September first finally came around, Marshall once again piled the family—plus Sirius and Remus—into the van and drove to the airport. Because they were still unsure of Sirius' status in England, Sirius had been convinced to say his farewells in France. Remus was staying with him so he wouldn't feel too left out, although he still pouted furiously.

The family arrived at Kings Cross Station at 10:30 leaving plenty of time for Harry to find a seat and say his goodbyes to his parents, Lizzy and Alex. Stephanie was increasingly smothering as the time for Harry to leave drew closer, brushing nonexistent dust from his pea coat and smoothing his already smooth hair.

"Enough mum!" Harry said in amusement, "You're going to embarrass me. The Malfoys are headed over and I'd rather not have Draco see that."

Stephanie sighed, glancing across the station where the Malfoys had just entered. "Be careful, Harry. I just don't want anything to happen to you. You're going to be so far away from all of us, if anything happens it would take us hours for us to get to you!"

"Mum, I'm going to be just fine. I'm well prepared for this, you made sure of it. I'm not your average eleven-year-old. Can you at least trust that I'm capable of staying out of trouble?"

"Yes, I know son. I'm just over-protective, can you blame me?"

"No, mum, and I love you for it, but could you please keep it to places where no one can see? You're a Slytherin, remember?"

Stephanie snorted, and said dryly, "Thank you for that."

Harry grinned, "Any time, mum, any time." Harry schooled his expression as he turned around to face the trio of blonds who had walked over.

"Lucius, may I present Stephanie Grey and her family?" Narcissa said gravely.

Lucius tipped his head in Stephanie's direction.

Stephanie nodded back and turned to Marshall, "Marshall, may I present Lord Lucius Malfoy, Lady Narcissa Malfoy and their son and heir, Draco Malfoy." Marshall tipped his head at the family, familiar with the Malfoy's upper-crust manners. Stephanie turned to the children, "My eldest, Harry, my daughter Elizabeth and my youngest son Alexander." She indicated each child as she introduced them. Harry bowed slightly, showing deference to his elder, Lizzy curtsied and blushed and Alex continued staring at the bright red locomotive while sucking his thumb.

Harry stepped forward one step, "Lord Malfoy, it is a pleasure. Lady Malfoy, Draco, it is wonderful to see you again." Harry turned to face his parents, "Mother, father, we should probably get on the train. It leaves in ten minutes." He intoned gravely, although his eyes were sparking with mischief.

"Very well," Stephanie sighed, "be careful and write to me after the sorting."

"Of course, mother." Harry bussed his mum on each cheek, shook his papa's hand, ruffled Alex's hair and gallantly bowed over Lizzy's hand and sighed dramatically, "Farewell, fine lady. Parting is such sweet sorrow. I eagerly await your owl, wee lass." He affected a Scottish accent.

Lizzy giggled then soberly answered, "I will be sure to write you as soon as I get home."

Harry turned to where Draco, having completed his own farewells, was struggling to get his trunk onto the train. "Draco, want some help with that?"

"It would be appreciated." Draco drawled.

Harry reached down and grabbed the handle of the trunk and grunted as he hefted it off the ground. "Great Merlin! What's in there, an entire library?"

Draco flushed lightly, "Maybe."

Harry snorted, "Fortunately, I've saved a compartment right here," Harry motioned to the first compartment. "Ravenclaw."

Draco grunted as they hoisted his trunk on the rack next to Harry's. "I'll have you know that my entire family has gone into Slytherin and I expect I will follow."

Harry dropped gracefully into the seat by the window, "Why?"

Draco gaped for a moment, "It is expected of me, my father expects me to be a great leader there." Draco answered, seating himself across from Harry.

Harry contemplated how to word his answer, "Okay, here's something to think about: In the current political climate of the UK—although it really doesn't matter to the rest of the world—Slytherins are looked down on and discriminated against simply because of the actions of one mad man." Harry held up his hand when Draco started to interrupt, "Hold on, let me finish. If you want to elevate your family name and status, Slytherin probably won't help you there. However, if you were able to fit in another house you could reach that goal. People don't expect a Ravenclaw to be cunning, just smart. They don't expect a Gryffindor to plan, just rush in guns blazing."

Draco was a bit confused at the metaphor but got the gist of Harry's speech. "But your mother was a Slytherin, don't you want to be in the same house as she was? Although, now that I think about it, you never told me what house your father was in." He cocked his head curiously.

Harry snorted, "My birth parents were both Gryffindors. My mum as you know was Slytherin. My papa however, he's a mundane."

"Wait, birth parents? And what's a 'mundane'?"

"Yes, birth parents. I was blood adopted after they were murdered. And mundane is the politically correct way—in the rest of the world, anyhow—to refer to those without magic."

"Your papa's a muggle!? But he looked completely normal!" Draco spluttered.

"It's impossible to tell a mundane from a witch or wizard just by looking, Draco. Although if it is a pureblood out in the mundane world it is much easier. Very few are capable of convincingly blending in."

Draco gaped for a moment longer before remembering himself, "Who were your birth parents?"

Harry sighed, he really hoped that Draco wouldn't take this badly, "James and Lily Potter."

Draco's eyes widened for a moment, "Sweet Salazar. You're not taking the piss?"

Harry snorted at Draco's plebeian response, "Nope."

Draco's eyes darted to Harry's unmarked forehead, "Where's the scar?"

Harry rolled his eyes mentally, "Draco. My mum is a witch. I'm a wizard. There are salves to heal injury without scars. Surely you know this." Harry said very slowly, as though Draco were being deliberately obtuse.

Draco lightly glared, "Yes, I'm not a complete idiot, Harry. It's just that all the books that you are in identify you by the scar."

Harry scoffed, "Yes. I've seen those books: Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century. I'm not sure where they got their information about me from, because I lived most of my life to this point in Japan and Russia."

"Really? What—" Draco was cut off by the warning whistle of the train.

A commotion outside their open window, at the entrance to the platform caught their attention. Piling in one after the other was a half dozen red heads. Harry recognized a few from Flourish and Blotts. There were four boys, two of whom were identical twins, a girl and their rather plump mother. As they watched, the family stopped just outside their window. The mother pulled out a handkerchief and started rubbing on the youngest boy's nose. Draco snorted, and then his eyes widened, he really didn't want to get caught eavesdropping—by a _Weasley_ of all people, because it was obvious who the family was.

Harry glanced over at him, "I charmed the window to look like the shade is down. They can't see us."

"And _why_ are we even paying attention to them? That is the Weasley family, more children than money."

"Hold on," Harry interrupted, "I'm curious. I intend to make alliances across the houses and ideally across the years, too. I'm intelligence gathering."

Draco grumbled, but sat forward again to watch the family.

"I'm up front; the Prefects have got two compartments to themselves-"* The eldest boy who was carrying himself rather self-importantly was interrupted by one of the twins.

"Oh, are you a Prefect, Percy?" He said looking mock-shocked, "You should have said something, we had no idea."*

The second twin piped in, "Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it. Once-"*

"Or twice-" The first twin added.*

"A minute-"*

"All summer-"*

They were interrupted by the eldest, "Oh, shut up."*

Harry snorted. "I think I like them."

Draco looked unsure.

"They have great comedic timing, just the thing to liven up a dull day." Harry took in Draco's expression. He knew that it was a rather lot to take in at one time: in only a few sentences Harry was challenging everything that he'd been brought up to believe. Although he had hinted at some things in their correspondence throughout the years, he had never been as blunt.

"Draco, I'm going to tell you something that my mum has hammered into me my entire life." Harry added, seeing Draco's skeptical glance, "Never judge a book by its cover and _never_ alienate someone just because you don't like them. You never know when they might be in a position to do something you want. My papa's always agreed with that, and according to him he prevents wars on a regular basis."

"Really?"

Harry grinned, "I doubt it, actually. He usually says that when he's being particularly dramatic. But do you understand what I mean?"

Draco sighed, "Yeah, yeah. I understand, it's just weird."

They turned back to the window as the train started rolling to see the mother and girl standing together on the platform. The mother was waving the handkerchief and the little girl was looking at the train forlornly.

The door to their compartment popped open and one of the red-headed twins popped his head in and back out, "Oi, there's room here. Just some ickle firsties." He turned back and addressed Harry and Draco, "You don't mind, do you?" Without waiting for a response, he plopped into a seat, followed immediately by his twin and a boy about their same age with dreadlocks. "Seems like there's never an empty compartment."

"Of course," the second twin continued, "when you arrive seconds before the train leaves-"

"There's bound to be none free."

Harry grinned, "Do you always talk like that?"

The boy with dreads laughed, "Yeah, they do. A bit disconcerting at times, but you get used to it." He extended his hand, "Lee Jordan, third year Gryffindor."

"George Weasley, third year Gryffindor." The first twin said.

"Fred Weasley, third year Gryffindor."

Harry glanced at Draco and smirked, "Harry Potter-Grey."

Draco hesitated for a second, enjoying the gobsmacked look on the elder boys' faces, "Draco Malfoy."

Fred recovered first, "Well, we are-"

"Pleased to make your acquaintance-"

"Oh Beacon of Light." Lee added irreverently.

Harry laughed, "I think that may be taking things a bit far, but I will accept it in the spirit in which it was offered."

George cocked his head to the side, studying Harry, "You've not got the scar."

Draco snorted, "We're wizards, aren't we?"

Harry raised his eyebrow at Draco, "You asked the same question."

Draco huffed and the twins snorted.

While the twins collected themselves, Lee added his knuts worth, "Where have you been? No one's seen you, ever."

Harry sighed, "How quickly will this spread?"

Lee grinned, "Nothing stays secret for terribly long at Hogwarts."

"Unless," Fred interrupted.

"You're a Weasley Twin." George finished.

"It's really rather simple. I grew up in Japan and Russia, although we live in France now." Harry said.

"Ah—" George was cut off by a knock on the door.

The door slid open to reveal a pretty girl about the twins' age. "There you three are! Alicia has been searching for you George. I think you'd better find her and apologize for whatever it is that has her in such a snit, it's getting rather aggravating."

"Very well, milady." Fred said standing.

"It was very nice making your acquaintance, ickle firsties." George continued, still looking at Draco if he couldn't quite figure him out. No doubt he had expected that Draco would sling insults like the stuck up, rich, purebloods of their year did.

"Before we go, though, I'd like to introduce you, Angelina Johnson," Lee paused dramatically, "to Harry Potter-Grey and Draco Malfoy." He finished and then swept out of the compartment.

Before Harry could blink the compartment was devoid of Gryffindors. "Well. That was interesting."

Draco raised his eyebrow, "You do realize that now every person on the train is probably going to walk past and gawk at us? I'm not dressed for such a spectacle!" Draco started hyperventilating.

"Draco!" Harry snapped his fingers in front of Draco's nose in attempt to snap him out of his panic. Once he had the blond's attention, he continued, "You look fine, however if you wish to change into your school robes, nothing is stopping you. Actually, why don't we both do that?"

With that proclamation, Harry stood and locked the compartment door, pulling the blinds down so no one could peep in. Within minutes, both Harry and Draco were dressed in fitted plain black robes. While not screaming expensive, the robes were not the common, boxy cut cotton available at Madam Malkins. It was obvious that the robes were tailored for both boys. They looked rather good, if Harry did say so himself. "There, do you feel like you can face the adoring public now?"

Draco mock-glared at Harry, "Yes, your lordship."

Harry only laughed, raising the blind and unlocking the door. The hall outside their compartment was empty at the moment, but that changed within a few minutes. Students of all ages would walk by the door, glance—or gawk, as the case may be—in, blush and hurry off.

"I wonder who will be the first one to actually come in will be." Harry mused.

"We're about to find out." Draco tilted his head towards the door which a bushy haired girl was preparing to open.

"Have either of you seen a toad? Only Neville's lost one.*" The girl asked very quickly.

"No, we've not left our compartment since the train left the station." Draco answered.

"I'm sure it will turn up." Harry added.

"Oh." The girl hesitated, then turned back to face them, "I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, I'm the first witch in my family, it was very surprising when I got my letter, mum and dad didn't know what to think, and then Professor Mcgonagall—do you know her?—showed up and turned the coffee table into a pig, and my parents were so shocked, but I'm very pleased, Hogwarts is the best school for witchcraft there is, I've heard, anyway, I read all our text books five times each, I think I know them by heart now, I just hope that it's enough!*" She burst out. Harry was sure she hadn't taken a breath the entire rant. "Who are you?"

Draco scoffed and Harry internally rolled his eyes. He wasn't very sure about this witch. "He's Draco Malfoy and I'm Harry Potter-Grey."

The witches eyes widened, "Are you really? I know all about you, of course, you're in all the books.* You've got a funny accent."

Harry's voice was cool when he answered, "That is what happens when you grow up with an American papa and an English mum whilst living in Japan."

Hermione was obviously setting up to question him further when the compartment door slid open again. Standing in the doorway was a round tearful boy.

"Hermione, have you found him?" The boy asked softly.

Hermione turned to face him, "No, Neville, I haven't. Let's look some more."

With a confused glance back at Harry and Draco, she followed the boy out of the compartment. Harry wasn't sure what she was confused about, but he assumed it was probably because he didn't fit into what the books had told her about him. He thought that she must have _some_ redeeming quality, since she was helping someone she had only just met to find a small toad on the huge train that was the Hogwarts Express. Then again, maybe she was as bratty and full of herself as she had seemed on first impression, time would tell.

Draco stared at the closed door, "Well. That was odd."

Harry snorted, "More than. I'm reserving judgment on that one. It could be she's just a tad bit overexcited and, being a first generation witch, is overcompensating for the fact that she didn't grow up knowing she was magic like we did. Then again, maybe not."

Just then there was a tap at the door. Harry glanced up, outside was an old lady pushing a cart full of what appeared to be wizarding sweets. "Anything off the trolly, dears?"

Harry looked over the offerings, "I'll have a Chocolate Frog." He turned to Draco, "Anything for you?"

Draco shrugged, "I suppose I'll have a Cauldron Cake."

The boys sat back in their seats to enjoy their treat. Harry tore open the packaging and deftly caught the frog as it made its bid for freedom and flipped over the card. "Albus Dumbledore, greatest wizard in the world, et cetera, et cetera."

Draco looked at Harry weirdly, "Okay, I've been thinking, and I would like to go back to our discussion of the Houses from before. I don't exactly understand some of what you said."

Harry nodded, "Alright, however, if we are going to have this debate you need to keep your emotions out of it. I know that you've been 'trained', as it were, for Slytherin House so you know how to do that." At Draco's nod, Harry continued, "Okay, what aren't you understanding?"

"First, you said that Slytherins are discriminated against because of one mad man. Father says that Slytherins are great and noble and it is the House where all the people worth knowing go. And what mad man soiled the name of Slytherin?" Draco asked curiously, confusion evident in the furrow of his brow. "Second, you talked like you can effect where you get sorted. How does that work?"

"I'll start with your second question first, since it's easier to answer. You just ask the hat."

"Ask?" Harry nodded, "The hat?" Another nod, "Which hat? And how do you know?"

Harry grinned, "I take it your father didn't tell you how first years are sorted?" Draco shook his head, "You put on a hat. The hat is apparently an old Founders Artifact and it looks into your head. If you ask it hard enough it will take your request into consideration. I know this because it is what my godfather did. All of his family had been in one house—Slytherin, actually—for generations. He hated his family with a passion and didn't want to follow them, so when the hat was put on his head he just started chanting 'Not Slytherin' over and over. The hat asked him if he was sure, then sent him to Gryffindor. I don't actually think that Sirius would have been sorted into Slytherin anyhow—he's far too reckless—but the fact remains that the hat did listen to what he said. Make sense?" Draco nodded.

"Alright now back to the first question. The UK is very prejudiced against Slytherins. A fair portion of the students don't really feel that antipathy because they _are_ from old families that are wealthy enough that they don't have to find employment or they work for the family business. However, for the small portion of Slytherins who are not independently wealthy, they have a very difficult time finding a job. In fact, I'd doubt that there are many Slytherin graduates in the UK that aren't in your father's social circle. That's actually the reason that my mum left England after she graduated. There was absolutely no opportunity for her here that didn't involve a black cloak and white mask, which, incidentally, she had no interest in.

"Now, what has your father told you about Voldemort?" Harry ignored Draco's gasp and squeak, "His politics, I mean."

"You said the name!" Draco spluttered.

"Of course I did, it's just a name."

Draco looked at Harry weirdly, "His politics?" Harry nodded, "Father says that the Dark Lord's goal was to purify the wizarding world and get rid of all the mudbloods. They disrespect tradition and want to integrate us with the muggles. Rebuild our world stronger than ever."

Harry looked at Draco through narrowed eyes, "First, that word is incredibly foul and it is beneath your station to use it. I'm not going to get into blood politics with you, I'll save that for another day. Do you know how he went about making these changes?" Draco shook his head, eyes wide, "He went around the countryside terrorizing everyone. His followers were well known for killing indiscriminately and throwing around the Cruciatus like it was a stunner. They never tried to change the world through legal means, they just started killing. You said that he wanted to purify the wizarding world?" Draco nodded, "I assume that you mean that he wanted the wizarding world for the purebloods only." Draco nodded again, "How then do you explain the fact that he wiped out numerous old pureblood lines? Some to extinction, and others to the brink. For instance: the Potters. My father had twin younger brothers and an elder sister. All three were married with children. All three were married to pure bloods as well. My grandparents weren't fighters, they were elderly by the time that my youngest uncle finished school and they rarely left Potter Hall. Voldemort's followers hunted the entire family until I'm the only Potter left. None of them ever took up arms against him, except my parents, but they were not interested in joining either."

Draco cocked his head, none of what Harry was saying made sense. If the Dark Lord wanted the wizarding world for the purebloods, then why was he killing them off? His father had never lied to him in his life—as far as he was aware, anyhow—and he couldn't understand how he'd missed this.

While Draco was trying to make sense of what Harry had said, the compartment door opened again. This time there were two girls who entered, they introduced themselves as Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot. The girls stayed only a few minutes, Draco didn't talk to either of them, too wrapped up in trying to understand what Harry had told him.

The next few hours were spent in much the same vein, the next duo brave enough to enter the compartment were two first generation wizards. They admitted that they didn't actually know what all the fuss was about, but they had been dared to come in. Harry grinned, he could understand not backing down from a dare. They introduced themselves as Dean Thomas and Justin Finch-Fletchley.

Conversation was a little stilted until Dean mentioned football, then a heated discussion over which was the best team ensued. It was this discussion that pulled Draco out of his contemplation. He admitted that he didn't know the sport when Dean asked him his opinion. This lead to a loud an raucous explanation of the rules of football. When all was said and done, Draco still didn't understand the sport, but it had been an interesting discussion, nonetheless.

As the afternoon wore on, Harry was sure he and Draco had been visited by almost all of the first years. After Dean and Justin left came Padma and Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown who just introduced themselves and ran out giggling.

At one point, an older girl with spiky pink hair had tripped right outside their compartment and put her elbow through the window. Next was an odd group of Ernie MacMillan, who was quite pompous, Seamus Finnegan, the brash Irishman, Sally-Anne Perks, who was painfully shy, Blaise Zabini, the cool Italian, and Layla Moon, a graceful Romany-looking girl. The discussions were varied, but Harry made sure that they stayed away from topics like Hogwarts Houses. He also made sure that Draco participated.

The train was about an hour from Hogwarts and Draco and Harry—their compartment empty but for them at the moment—arguing the merits of pointless wizarding games like gobstones or exploding snap when the compartment door opened for the nth time that day. The difference this time was that the intruders were looking for Draco, not Harry. At the door stood a blond girl and a brunette.

"Draco! There you are!" The blond exclaimed. "Where have you been the whole ride? Pansy has been going out of her mind!"

Draco snorted inelegantly, "I've been right here the entire ride." He turned to Harry, "Harry, this is Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis. Tracey, Daphne, this is Harry Potter-Grey."

"Oh." Tracey gasped.

"If Pansy really wants me, she can come down here, I'm rather comfortable at the moment." Draco smirked.

Harry suppressed a grin, "All three of you are welcome to join us, if you like."

The brunette squeaked again and darted down the corridor to locate her friend. Within moments she was back with a pug-faced girl who had a rather displeased expression on her face.

"Drakey! Where were you? I was so worried that something had happened. You know your father would have wanted you to ride with me." The girl screeched.

Harry caught Draco's eye over the girl's shoulder and raised his eyebrow, Draco shrugged slightly in response. "Pans, I've been in this compartment the entire ride. Father and mother were talking to Harry's parents just before we got on, so we ended up in the same compartment. You could have come and found me at any time." At this statement the girl whipped around to look at Harry, her eyes coolly assessing. Draco motioned to Harry gallantly—and a bit sarcastically, "Pansy, meet Harry Potter-Grey. Harry, meet Pansy Parkinson."

Pansy dropped gracelessly into the seat next to Draco, clinging to his arm like a limpet, her narrowed eyes never leaving Harry, "Why, Draco. If your father knew..."

"Did you miss the part where our parents were speaking before we boarded? Our mothers have known each other for ages." Draco asked, shaking the clingy girl off his arm. "I'll thank you to not hang off me, Pans. You know how much I hate that."

Before she had a chance to retort the door to the compartment burst open for what Harry hoped would be the last time. In the doorway stood the youngest of the redheads from the platform, still with a smudge on his nose.

"Rumor has it that Harry Potter is on the train." He stated, looking around expectantly.

Harry stood, "That's me. Harry Potter-Grey, nice to meet you." He motioned to Draco and the girls, "This is Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis." Each of the named nodded—although Draco was rather hesitant—with the exception of Pansy who glared at the redhead.

The redhead spluttered, "Ron Weasley. Listen, I know that you've grown up in the muggle world so there was no way for you to know, but there are some wizarding families that you should not hang out with. Come on, I can explain it all to you." Ron held out his hand.

Harry looked at the boy, taken aback by his rudeness. He, however, did take the hand and shake it once before dropping it. "I'm pretty sure that my mum taught me to think for myself and to judge people on their own worth. I can make the decision of who to associate with on my own, thanks."

The redhead flushed until his skin matched his hair. Harry could practically see steam coming out of his ears he was so angry. He obviously had no retort—either that or he didn't really understand what Harry had said—and stormed out of the compartment without saying another word. Harry shrugged and sat back down, Pansy in the background exclaiming on his so called 'muggle upbringing'. Before Harry could get angry enough to fire a retort back at her, the warning whistle sounded.

Draco looked at the girls, "You three had better go get your school robes on, we'll be there any minute."

Pansy huffed, but let Daphne and Tracey steer her back out of the compartment.

"She seems to think that our parents are going to arrange a marriage contract for us." Draco answered Harry's enquiring glance, "I'm hoping to be able to talk them out of it. We were good friends when we were little kids, before she got it in her head to be the future Lady Malfoy. Ever since, she's been unbearably possessive." Draco sighed as the train chugged into the quaint little village that sat outside the Hogwarts wards.

When the train came to a stop, the two boys scrambled off with the rest of the crush of students. Over to one side, Harry could see the gargantuan man he had met at Gringotts a month prior swinging a lantern over his head calling for the first years. Harry snagged Draco's arm and the two of them fought the press of students to get to the lantern. From there, all the first years trudged down a slippery path to the edge of the lake with boats waiting to carry them to the other side.

"No more than four to a boat!" The giant hollered.

Harry and Draco snagged a boat and Harry grabbed two boys he remembered from earlier, Seamus and Dean, as he caught sight of Pansy trying to reach them. Draco grinned at him then looked at Pansy and mouthed his apologies. She huffed and got into the last boat available.

The ride across the lake was peaceful, the first view of Hogwarts was awe-inspiring. The castle looked like something pulled straight from a fairy tale with torches staked down the front drive and every window ablaze with light. Before Harry had entirely appreciated the scene, however, they were sailing through an arch of ivy and up to a dock at the base of the castle.

Professor McGonnagall met them at the door and showed them to the entry way. She gave them a snappy lecture about the four houses and then left them to their anxieties. Harry looked around, Pansy was shouldering her way over to Draco, her girls trailing in her wake. Hermione Granger was muttering to herself about spells and tests and working herself—and Neville who was standing with her—up into a tizzy. Neville looked like he was going to be ill. Harry was sure he heard the idiot redhead say they had to wrestle a troll.

Within minutes Professor McGonnagall had returned and lead them into the great hall. Harry looked up at the ceiling in wonder. The charms work was amazing, he couldn't even detect the ceiling in any way, it simply looked like the great hall was open to the elements. Harry's attention was drawn back to the Professor as she plonked down a stool and the sorting hat at the front of the hall. A rip at the brim of the hat opened and began to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

your top hats sleek and tall,

for I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

and I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting hat can't see, s

o try me on and I will tell you

where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

their daring, nerve and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find there kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends.

So put me on!

Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

for I'm a Thinking Cap!

Harry clapped with the rest of the students and sat back to watch the students ahead of him. Professor McGonnagall pulled out a scroll of paper and started calling out names. Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones both went to Hufflepuff, Tracey Davis went to Slytherin, Seamus Finnegan and Hermione Granger to Gryffindor, Daphne Greengrass was sorted to Slytherin, Neville Longbottom went to Hufflepuff, then it was Draco's turn. Draco strutted up to the hat with as much confidence as Harry was sure he could muster and pulled the hat down on his head. He sat there for almost a full minute before the hat opened it's rip and yelled "Ravenclaw!" The table full of blue and bronze applauded. Next were the Patil twins, one went to Gryffindor and one to Ravenclaw. Harry closed his eyes, he was next.

"Harry Potter-Grey." McGonnagall said.

o 0 o

_A.N.: Yes, I'm going to leave it there. Now, what elements of PS would you like to see kept? Thrown away? Lit on fire? I'm a review hog, so please review! _

_* means taken from PS to an extent._


	14. Chapter 14

_Disclaimer: Nothing has changed._

_A.N.: Hey all, sorry that the updates are not as frequent as they were at first. I got a second job that I thought would be maybe one day a week and it has ended up taking all my spare time! Pah on economics, anyhow. With that out of the way, on with the show!. Oh, and someone asked why, in the last chapter Harry grabbed Dean and Seamus to share the boat when Dean was with Justin earlier in the chapter. Harry just grabbed two blokes blindly because he REALLY didn't want to share a boat with the clingy, whiny, shrieking Pansy Parkinson. Dean and Seamus just happened to be the two that he grabbed._

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Whispers broke out throughout the hall. From all sides, the older students craned their necks to get a look at the 'Boy-who-Lived'. Harry sighed, _so, it starts._ Although he was glad that the staff had decided to address him by his proper last name without him throwing a fit.

Harry strode up to the stool, perched on the edge and plopped the hat on his head. The hat was obviously created with adult heads in mind, Harry thought, as the edge settled about his nose.

_Ah, what have we here? A Potter? _Harry heard a voice that sounded timeless in his mind.

_Potter-Grey, actually. _Harry thought at the hat.

_Well, let's take a look here and see where to put you. _The hat continued, as though Harry had not said anything. _You've a magnificent mind, a thirst for knowledge. You are loyal, but only to those who have proven themselves to you. You've cunning in spades. You're willing to put yourself on the line for those you love. But where to put you?_

_Ravenclaw, please. _Harry once again directed his thoughts at the hat.

_Ravenclaw, are you sure? You could do very well in Slytherin. Even Gryffindor could help you on your way._

_I'm sure, there are far too many stigma's associated with Slytherin or Gryffindor. And I'm sure I'm not reckless enough to be a true Gryffindor anyhow._

_Very well, Mr. Potter-Grey. Hogwarts is in for some major upheavals, I look forward to seeing the changes you bring. Better be _"RAVENCLAW!" The hat shouted out.

Harry swept the hat off his head and dropped it back on the stool he had vacated. The Ravenclaw table had burst into raucous applause after a moment of stunned silence. Harry walked confidently to the table and slid into the seat across from Draco.

Once he was seated, he sneaked a look at the head table. In the middle, seated at a sickeningly ornate throne-like chair, Albus Dumbledore was blinking slowly, looking thunderstruck. There was a short wizard who appeared to be only half human a few seats down who was beaming as though Christmas had come early. Harry assumed that this was the Head of Ravenclaw. To the other side was a homely looking witch with flyaway grey hair who was clapping politely. Further down the line was an anaemic-looking man with oleaginous black hair who was glaring at the entire student body indiscriminately. Harry vaguely recognized this man as Severus Snape, one of both his mum and mother's childhood friends. Although the years had not been kind to the man.

Harry's attention was brought back to the sorting as Professor McGonnagall called out "Ronald Weasley." The gangly redhead—whom Harry noted _still_ had dirt on his nose—tripped up to the stool. The boy plonked the hat on his head, where it resided for no more than ten seconds before crying out "GRYFFINDOR!" The final student to be sorted was "Blaise Zabini." The hat had barely touched the boy's head before crying out "SLYTHERIN!"

No sooner had the boy stepped off the stool than the Headmaster was standing up to speak to the student body. The old man, however, had obviously lost the plot somewhere, because all he said were a few nonsense words before clapping his hands and making it appear that he had conjured the entire meal himself. Harry snorted, less than impressed with the man.

Putting potentially senile Headmasters out of his mind, Harry focused on his new housemates. He turned to the short, pudgy boy with straight brown hair cut in a severe bowl cut on his right, "Is he a bit mad?"

The boy snorted inelegantly, "My uncle reckons so. My mother disagrees. I'm Terry Boot." The boy set his fork down and extended his hand to Harry.

Harry shook the extended hand, "Harry Potter-Grey."

Terry's eyes drifted up to Harry's forehead, "So we heard, I thought you'd be taller."

Harry snorted, catching the reference, "Har har. I'm plenty tall. I'm only eleven, after all." Harry's eyes drifted further down the table to the aristocratic-looking brunette with deep blue eyes who was sitting next to Terry. "And who might you be?"

The girl blushed, "Lisa Turpin." She whispered.

Harry shifted his focus to the dishwater blond sitting across from Lisa. Unless Harry missed his guess, the girl was a first generation witch—if the look of awe on her face as she studied the ceiling and the frizzy perm were any indication.

The girl glanced back at the table and started when she noticed the other first years looking at her expectantly, "Oh, sorry. I'm Mandy Brocklehurst. I'm the first witch in my family, although we think my little brother might be one too. A wizard, I mean. This is all just so amazing!"

"I know!" The Indian girl piped up from Mandy's right. "I'm Padma Patil. My twin sister, Parvati, and I are the first with magic in our family too."

"May I ask a rather personal question?" Harry queried.

"You can ask, I may not answer." Padma said.

Harry smiled, "I was just curious if you were raised Hindi." He indicated the red bindi on her forehead.

"Oh, yes." Padma nodded.

Harry shifted his focus to Draco, inwardly smirking at how quickly his year mates followed his lead.

"Draco Malfoy. I'm fairly certain that if my father wanted to, he could trace the magic in our family back to Merlin's time."

"Well," the boy with tight brown curls and a prominent Roman nose to his right piped in, bombastically. "It is a noble thing, after all, to be able to trace your magic back generations." The boy paused to ensure that all their eyes were on him before he continued. "Anthony Goldstein."

"Perhaps," The redhead to Harry's left piped up with a broad Scottish brogue. The girl looked the very stereotype of a Scottish redhead. Moss green eyes and burnt orange curls that tumbled half way down her back in a riotous mess. "Morag MacDougal. Me màthair is a witch and can trace her magical lineage back several hundred years. Me athair is a muggle, but he can trace his lineage back through the Battle of Culloden to the Earls of Orkney. 'Tis a bonny history, if bloody at times."

Harry smiled at his house mates, "And I'm Harry Potter-Grey, as I'm sure you've heard. All I ask is that you take everything you think you know about me and throw it out the window."

Padma nodded, "I think I can do that. Can I ask _you_ a question now?" Harry nodded, "I'm just curious about your accent. I can't place it."

Harry snickered, "This is what you get when you are raised with an English mum, an American papa and spend the majority of your formative years in Japan."

"Japan? What on earth took you there?" Morag asked.

"My papa is an American Ambassador. We actually moved to Japan right after my parents adopted me. We spent some time in Russia as well. Papa is currently stationed in Paris."

Harry could tell that Padma wanted to follow that line of questioning and find out how he came to be adopted, but fortunately at that moment the Headmaster stood up again, pulling the attention of the room to himself. He made some inane announcements about things that were called 'forbidden' actually being forbidden, outlined the major school rules and informed a hall full of curious children that one corridor of the school was to be avoided on pain of death. Harry was certain that making such an announcement was simply asking for someone to go looking down the corridor; he really hoped that the 'pain of death' was merely a turn of phrase. The headmaster then proceeded to introduce the new DADA teacher, an incredibly nervous looking man in a deep purple turban. This was followed by a truly horrendous rendition, or two hundred, of the school song. Finally, the headmaster dismissed them to follow the prefects up to their dormitories.

o 0 o

_A.N.: I know, it's not terribly long, probably my shortest chapter yet, but I thought I'd kept you in suspense long enough about which house Harry was sorted into. I'll try to get something with a little more substance up by the weekend._


	15. Chapter 15

_Disclaimer: The usual. Harry Potter and his friends belong to JK, the Ravenclaw Riddles came from . Oh yeah, and I've been reading fanfic for years now, so if anything seems familiar that's not JK, I promise, it's not intentional. If you recognize something let me know..._

_A.N.: So, yeah... sorry about the wait, only I was in a rather awful car accident last week and I was doing nothing but taking Vicodin and sleeping all weekend. To any of you who may be teenage drivers: Please remember to check for oncoming traffic before you turn left (or right if you're in the UK). Thanks. Anyhow, on with the show._

o 0 o

The Ravenclaw first years followed the rest of the house up to their tower. Harry took note of any prominent landmarks to help guide him in the future. Although, according to his mum, the castle was semi-sentient and loved to move things around on a whim, so it was entirely possible that none of the landmarks would remain in the morning.

The fifth year prefects, Robert Hillard and Penelope Clearwater, lead them up a circular staircase to a bronze door knocker in the shape of an eagle. Penelope raised the door knocker and it said: "How many times can you subtract the number 5 from 25?"

Robert turned to the first year contingent behind him, "The only way to gain entry to the common room is by answering the riddle correctly. If you are unable to answer, or answer incorrectly, you must wait for someone who can answer the riddle to get inside. The guardian will continue asking the same riddle until it is answered correctly."

"That or wait for someone who is inside to come out." Penelope interjected. "Does anyone know the answer?"

Harry looked around, he thought he knew—was 99% positive, in fact—but he didn't want to stand out too far too fast.

"Well, the obvious answer would be 5." Anthony said arrogantly.

"No." Came a soft voice from the other side of Draco. Harry glanced over to see Lisa almost folding in to herself with all the attention on her. "It's only once." She whispered.

"Correct, young eagless." The knocker answered and the door swung inwards to reveal a large circular room decorated prominently in royal blue with bronze accents. There were two fire places on opposite ends of the room and countless bookcases packed with books lining the walls. There were tables and chairs near the domed windows on the east side of the tower and couches and arm chairs scattered throughout the room.

"How do you figure that, Lisa?" Terry asked.

"Well, once you've taken away the first 5, you're no longer subtracting from 25." The girl answered, still almost whispering.

Draco snorted, artlessly, "Well. That makes sense, then. I knew it wasn't the obvious answer, but I couldn't figure out what the catch was."

Richard cleared his throat, snagging the attention of all the gawking first years, "Now, every one is to be in the tower by 9 o'clock each night. Sleep is important, so Professor Flitwick expects all 'Claws to be in bed with lights out no later than midnight. Ever. Now, girls, your dorm is up the stairs to the right all the way to the top. Boys you are up the stairs to the left, again, all the way to the top. Each year your dorm will be one level closer to the common room."

"Alright, today's been a long day, it's quite late. Why don't you all go get settled into your rooms, write your letters home and get a good night's sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day." Penelope said, "Tomorrow I will lead you back down to the Great Hall. We had, in years past, tried to make a map of the castle, but it changes so frequently that more often than not the map was inaccurate. There will be a prefect who will show you to each of your classes for the first week. After that it is expected that you will know your way around."

Harry sighed in relief, a week would be more than enough time for him to learn his way around. The boys all murmured their goodnights and trod off up the stairs. The Ravenclaw boys' room was a large half circle with two windows overlooking the grounds. To each side of either window was a large four poster bed with royal blue curtains. Harry walked over to the window next to the bed that had his trunk at the end and looked out into the gloaming. Ravenclaw tower, he swiftly decided, was the highest of the Hogwarts towers, and his room was as high up as you could get. He could see for miles—or would be able to when the sun was properly out. Harry turned from the window and gathered his night things, swiftly prepared for bed and snagged a pen and paper from his trunk before settling into his four poster. He had a letter to a princess to write to, after all.

Harry glanced over at the bed next to his where Draco was sitting, chewing on a quill, staring at a blank sheet of parchment. "Draco, whatever did that poor quill do to you?"

Draco started and glanced up at Harry, "I'm just not sure how to word this letter to my father. So much happened today that I'm sure he didn't expect. Primarily my house, but also being friends with you."

"Draco," Terry called from his bed on the other side of Draco's, "just tell him you're in the house of the brilliant!"

Draco snorted, "He's Slytherin, as far as he's concerned, it's the only house. And there's only so much you can put in a letter."

"OK, Draco, this is what you write," Harry started, "Dear dad," Harry ignored the glare Draco shot at him, "the train ride was awesome, I met a bunch of people. I was sorted into Ravenclaw with Harry Potter. Incidentally, he's pretty cool. Love, Draco."

Draco snorted, "Do you have any idea the response I would get if I actually wrote that?"

Terry grinned, "It might be amusing. I'm guessing your dad is the proper pureblood sort?"

"There is nothing with expecting ones heir to comport themselves properly in public." Anthony asserted.

"True," Terry assented, "but one should also be able to be relaxed in private with ones parents. Pureblood heir or not."

Anthony sniffed.

Harry grinned at their antics and turned his attention to his own letter.

_Dear little lass, (and mum, papa, Alex, Remus and Sirius)_

_Hey, I made it to school with no major mishaps. The train ride was eventful. I sat with Draco the whole way. Initially, we were joined by a set of rather humorous twins. They only stayed a minute, but I'm pretty sure they were responsible for the parade of students who came by the rest of the trip. I met almost every one in our year and I can stand most of them. I even got Draco to participate in a heated discussion about football (proper football, papa, not your American football)._

_The Great Hall is amazing, just like you said, mum. Yes, Sirius, you told me too, but mum told me first so she gets the credit. The sorting went just like you said it would. I'm in Ravenclaw with Draco. There are two other boys, Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein. Terry's an ok sort, rather blunt and irreverent—you'd love him Sirius. Anthony, on the other hand is a arrogant boy. I don't know if I will be able to handle him in more than small doses. The girls, on the other hand are pretty nice. There's Mandy Brocklehurst, she's a first generation witch and was mostly quiet tonight. Padma Patil, she's first generation also, she has a twin in Gryffindor. Lisa Turpin is very nice but painfully shy. Lastly, Morag MacDougal. She's a proper Scotswoman—red hair included—loud and brash. _

_Oh, I almost forgot. I think Dumbledore is going senile or wants to cause harm to someone. He warned us last night—dropped right during all the other start of term notices—that one of the corridors was off limits on pain of death. I'm not sure what he's playing at, but that is not the kind of thing you tell a room full of hundreds of curious children. Or worse yet, daring teenagers._

_It's getting late and I'm knackered, there's not much else to say, anyhow. Love you all._

_Harry _

Harry reread his letter, nodded to himself, set it on his bedside table to be sent in the morning, pulled his curtains closed, slid his wand under his pillow and went to sleep.

o 0 o

The next morning, Harry awoke before the rest of the boys. He had decided that being away from home was no reason to interrupt his routine of a lifetime. Thus, his papa had bought a thin yoga mat for him to use to do his morning stretches and kata along with a box to hold the nun-chucks and collapsable staff he had been working with for the last year.

An hour later, Harry was sweating and congratulating himself on a satisfactory workout when the other three boys started to stir. Harry put all of his supplies away, grabbed his shower kit and headed for the bathroom across the hall. Once he was dressed, he gathered all his class supplies and the letter to his family and put them in his magically expanded, feather-light backpack. Although he didn't know what classes he had today, he didn't see a reason to have to traipse back to the tower to pick up his supplies.

All the first years joined Penelope in the common room by seven thirty for her to lead them back to the Great Hall. "OK, guys. This is the most direct way from the common room to the Great Hall. It is also the one that is least likely to change." She halted as the staircase the group was on swung from one landing to another. She grinned, "As I was saying, it changes the least, even though we ended up at a different landing, these two halls come together at the top of the grand staircase to the entryway."

Harry nodded, it really was quite easy the way that Penelope had shown them: down the Ravenclaw staircase, take the first left, the second right, the secret passageway behind the tapestry of a mammoth and down the stairs that—no matter which landing they deposited him on—lead to the grand staircase. An idiot could remember that, and Harry was most definitely not an idiot.

Breakfast was a lively affair. When the hall was full of students and teachers alike, the morning owl post arrived. Harry looked up to see if he could find his beautiful snowy that he had left with Lizzy so she could write him immediately. When Harry had taken the owl home, he decided he wanted to honor the French part of his life in her name. With that in mind, he named her Hedwig after Hedwig of France, Countess of Mons, daughter of the first king of France, Hugh Capet.

Harry spotted her immediately, her pristine white feathers standing out against the dull brown of most of the other owls. She landed gracefully on Harry's shoulder, disdainfully eyeing other owls that had landed in and around the food, creating a mess for their recipients. She gave a dignified hoot and proffered one taloned foot for Harry to remove her letter. Harry was sure she exaggerated her actions to show the other owls how a _proper_ delivery was made. Harry took the letter from her and attached his own, giving her a piece of bacon.

"There you go Hedwig, the letter is for everyone at home. You can go up to the owlery and rest if you want before you head back."

Hedwig nibbled on Harry's ear for a moment before spreading her wings and cuffing Harry across the back of his head as she took off. Harry turned back to the table to see his classmates following Hedwig's progress out of the Great Hall.

"Och, she's bòidheach1, she is." Morag said appreciatively.

"Whose written to you already, Harry?" Anthony interjected, "We've not even been here a full day."

Harry smiled, "It's from my little sister. She promised to write to me as soon as she got home after dropping me off at the train yesterday." Harry nestled the letter into his pocket and tucked into his breakfast.

When breakfast was nearly over, Professor Flitwick came around the table handing out the class timetables for the term. Harry glanced down at his, they only had seven core classes as first-year's. Today was the only day they had back-to-back classes. First was Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Hufflepuffs followed by Potions after lunch with the same. Tuesday morning was Charms with the Slytherins, Tuesday night was Astronomy with the Slytherins again. Wednesday morning was History of Magic with all houses, and in the afternoon was Transfiguration with the Gryffindors and Friday morning was Herbology with the Gryffindors again. Additionally, for the first few weeks there would be flying class on Friday afternoons with the entirety of the first-years.

"Alright guys, let's go," Penelope's voice cut through the chatter. "Which class do you have first?" Mandy handed her the timetable and Penelope glanced over it, "Okay, does any one need to go back to the dorms to get your books?" All 8 first-years shook their heads, "Very good. Come with me. Now, while we're walking, I'm going to give you a little background on your professors. Defense Against the Dark Arts: We've had five different professors in my five years here. I'm told that this has been a trend for something like thirty years. Some are good, others not so good, so I can't tell you what Professor Quirrell will be like. Although, I did hear some of the students who took Muggle Studies last year say that he was good teaching that. Potions: Professor Snape is a very unforgiving task master. He will not stand for anything less than perfection. Do not goof off, do not give him any cheek, but most of all do not give anything less than 100% at any time." Penelope glanced over the wide-eyed faces of the first years. "Even more importantly, don't be late. Ever." The eight first-years nodded as one. "He is said to favor his own house, Slytherin. This is true to an extent, but I have it on good authority that even if it looks like they don't get punished for something publicly that it is taken care of in private."

Penelope stopped outside of a classroom on the fifth floor, "This is the DADA classroom. Anna Peters doesn't have a class when you get out, so she will be meeting you here and leading you back to the Great Hall for lunch."

The class filed into the classroom. Harry looked around and debated where to sit, Draco and Morag were deep in conversation and had blindly pulled out two chairs to sit. Mandy and Lisa were sitting together and Terry and Padma were at a third table. That left Harry to either sit with Anthony—a prospect that Harry felt was second choice—or he could sit with a Hufflepuff.

A few minutes later the Hufflepuffs started to trickle in. Harry caught sight of Justin Finch-Fletchley and motioned him over. Justin looked surprised but settled into the seat in the second row next to Harry.

o 0 o

Harry snorted disbelievingly as soon as they were out of the classroom. This was the person who was supposed to defend themselves? This person who jumped at soft noises and nearly wet himself at loud ones? This person who would not say more than one word without stuttering? On that note, Harry was fairly certain that the stutter was, at the least, embellished if not outright faked; no one stuttered on every single word. They were met by a brunette seventh year, Anna, who led them back down to the main entrance.

"What in the world are we supposed to do with a teacher like that?" Draco exclaimed, once they were seated.

"We do what Ravenclaws do best." Padma said, "We pursue the knowledge and teach ourselves."

"What about the rest?" Lisa asked, quietly.

"They will have to teach themselves too." Anthony answered.

Harry reached for a roll and hesitated, glancing at the uncaring look on Anthony's face, "No, we help them. We're the 'smart' ones, we have the means to help our peers learn. On the other hand, I'm going to ask my mum and papa if they have any suggestions. It's completely worthless to be taught by someone who you can't even understand."

"Even the Slytherins?" Anthony argued, "They're not the sort we want to spend time with. My mum told me that there wasn't a witch or wizard that came out of that house during the war that didn't join you-know-who."

Harry stared at the boy agape for a split second, he could feel Draco's ire from across the table, "Anthony, I hate to burst that bubble, but it's a complete lie. True, many Slytherins did join him, and he himself claimed to be Slytherin's heir. However, the person who betrayed my parents was a Gryffindor, one of his main 'interrogators' was Hufflepuff. If all Slytherins were evil and supported him, there would have never even been a war." Harry glanced around and noticed that some of the older students were listening in.

"What exactly do you mean by that?" One of the fifth years asked.

"Well, by nature, Slytherins tend to be a sneaky bunch. They'll do what is best for them—or their family—in a heart beat, rather than what's good for everyone involved. As such they tend to gravitate towards jobs that use these skills to their fullest. Primarily politics. Case in point, the minister during the war, Minister Bagnold, was Slytherin. As are a good portion of the department heads, their innate nature and skills that were nurtured here at school helped them rise to their station. Hufflepuffs tend to gravitate towards healing arts, Gryffindors towards law enforcement and Ravenclaws to research."

"If that is true, then why is the evil of Slytherin all we ever hear about growing up?" Lisa asked.

"Well, not having grown up in the wizarding world, I can't say for sure, but my best guess?" Lisa nodded her head, "I'd guess that it's because the most notorious of his followers was Slytherin: Bellatrix Lestrange." Harry felt Draco start. "That and wizarding prejudice."

"Alright, you lot, let's go. It's Potions time for you!" Robert called down the table.

o 0 o

_A.N.: I was going to go all the way to the flying lesson with this chapter, but it's taken me three days to get this much written out. Hopefully the next update will be next weekend, but I'm not sure as it depends heavily on what I have to accomplish with my car repairs._

1. bòidheach – beautiful/pretty/bonnie


	16. Chapter 16

_Disclaimer: Nothing has changed since last time, as much as I wish it had._

_A.N.: Well, cripes. So sorry about my tardiness, my muse apparently took a vacation without notice. I didn't want to post a chapter just for the sake of updating and have it be crap, so I've waited. I'm not completely sure that my muse is back in full working form, but we'll see. Now, off we go._

o 0 o

Harry had heard stories of this man his entire life. Severus Snape had been best friends with both his mother and his mum. According to Remus, the three had been nigh inseparable for years. According to his mum, the man was a genius; according to Sirius he was a menace and according to Remus he was a poor boy who had had the misfortune to have something that Harry's dad had wanted. Namely a relationship with one Lily Evans.

Harry knew that his dad had not been an ideal teenager, although that particular revelation had only been made in the last year. Every child wants to think that their parents are infallible, and Harry was no different. Although, according to both Remus and his mum, James Potter had improved with age and grown out of the spoilt prat phase of his teenage years. Harry sometimes despaired of Sirius ever doing the same.

Potions with the Hufflepuffs was interesting, to say the least. Professor Snape had waited until the last second before entering the room, slamming the door closed behind him with an ominous thud. Or perhaps it was just Harry's overactive imagination that made it seem ominous; all through lunch the older years had shared horror stories about their experiences with the dour Potions Master.

Looking at his Potions teacher, Harry thought that his teenage experiences had left Professor Snape even more embittered than Sirius' Azkaban encounter had left him. Harry shuddered at the though of what Sirius' reaction if Harry ever told him that he thought the two men had something in common.

Professor Snape swept to the front of the classroom with his robes rippling around him impressively. When he reached the front of the classroom he snatched class list from his desk and began to call roll in a deadly whisper. He hesitated over Harry's name, but made no comment.

Once roll had been called, Professor Snape began a monologue that was most impressive, and gave Harry a glimpse of the passion the man carried for his subject. Harry imagined he would be an adroit teacher, at least until he called the entire class dunderheads. With that one proclamation, Harry decided that the accounts of the class that he'd heard during lunch were probably not too much embellished.

The class was obviously in awe of the man—at least the Ravenclaws were—the Hufflepuffs were quivering in fear of what would happen should they end up on the wrong side of their astringent professor. When the man began barking out questions that were not covered in the required texts, Harry's hopes for learning much from the man sank. It became obvious that, while an unusually gifted Potions Master, Severus Snape was not a teacher—or at the very least, he was not a teacher of children.

When Harry began studying potions two years ago, he spent a full month learning about the different ingredients, their properties and methods of preparation before Remus even considered allowing him near a cauldron. He had expected something similar in school. This was obviously a fallacy as Professor Snape offered them no more direction than brewing instructions for the boil cure written on the board at the front of the classroom. This was followed by the barked instruction to "Get to it."

By the end of the class, most of the attempted potions were nothing but an ugly grey sludge in the cauldrons.

Fortunately, although a teacher Severus Snape was not, he was incredibly attentive to preventing any mishaps. When Neville Longbottom's cauldron had begun to hiss and pour out foul smelling smoke, the professor was immediately at hand, casting a shield over the cauldron and containing the airborne, ruined potion to its vessel. The professors long suffering sigh precluded the most inventive dressing down Harry had ever heard, although he did feel sorry for Neville having to be at the receiving end of it.

The class ended with a three foot essay assigned, due the following class, on the uses of porcupine quills in potions. As they filed out of class, Harry turned to the rest of his classmates and announced his intention to head to the library to start on the assignment, inviting anyone who wanted to join him. Not surprisingly, all of the Ravenclaws nodded and were haltingly joined by Neville, Justin, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot.

Once they had gathered around a large table situated next to a large window, Harry turned to his classmates, "OK, how many of your potions were anything close to correct?" Draco immediately raised his hand, followed by Lisa, Padma and Susan. Harry nodded, "Neville," said boy's eyes shot up to meet Harry's, "why did your potion explode?"

Neville flushed, "I d-don't know."

"Where are your notes on your potion?" Harry asked. He was met with a confused look. "Didn't you take notes as you added ingredients? What you did and what happened?" He looked around the table as everyone was shaking their heads. Harry sighed, "If you don't, how will you know where you went wrong?

"Ok, in mundane school they teach a subject called Chemistry, it is very similar to potions at its roots. They combine ingredients to create something else. Frequently, the individual ingredients are unstable and have the potential to explode. Unfortunately, the mundanes don't have shield spells like we do, an explosion like what you had, Neville, could have been catastrophic. To prevent this, they are incredibly meticulous whenever they mix any ingredients. They take copious notes on what they did and what happened as a result. Not just what the instructions say to do."

"Oh." Padma inhaled, "I never thought about it like that. But it makes perfect sense. But the muggles start learning about the elements in primary school, the properties and what happens when they are exposed to other elements for several years before they get to actually interact with them. That doesn't happen until secondary school or even university." She hesitated, "Why isn't there a theory part of potions? Shouldn't we learn about the different ingredients before we start playing about with them?"

"There is," Anthony interjected, "it's called 'Herbology'."

"Those of us who grew up with two magical parents—at the least—were instructed at home on magical theory, in addition to learning to read and write and such." Lisa added.

Draco nodded, "My parents made sure that I had the best tutors that money could buy."

"Well," Mandy huffed, "that explains a lot of the disparity between muggleborns and purebloods. You all get the fundamentals of magic taught to you from a young age. We are told a month or two before we start Hogwarts, 'Oh, by the way you are magical. You'll be away from home learning all about magic for ten months a year.' We get less that a summer to learn what you've all grown up with. Then we get here and the teachers expect us to understand magic on the same level that you all do."

Justin nodded in agreement. "In my case, I learned I was magic two weeks before school started, on my eleventh birthday. I barely had time to assimilate what I had known to be true with what actually was true when it was time to catch the train."

The purebloods in question looked thoughtful. "What about you,Morag?" Terry asked, "How much pre-Hogwarts magical learning did you get, coming from a half-and-half household?"

"Well," Morag said, "me Maither insisted that I learn some, and me Aither insisted that I attend muggle school as well. I've not learned anything near as in depth as what you've been taught, but I did have some knowledge."

Harry glanced around, all involved in the discussion were looking deep in thought, although Neville still looked extremely flushed. "What about you, Neville? What kind of pre-Hogwarts tutoring did you get?"

"..." Neville mumbled.

"What? I didn't quite catch that." Anthony interjected.

Neville took a deep breath, "I didn't get anything beyond basic reading, writing and arithmetic."

Draco goggled, "Why ever not? It's not as though your family couldn't afford a tutor. And your family is one of the oldest around, even if they couldn't afford to hire someone to teach you, one of your kin could have instructed you."

Neville flushed a deeper red, if that was possible, "For the longest time, they were convinced I was all muggle. My gran didn't see sense in teaching me something I'd never use. I did learn quite a bit about Herbology, since you don't have to actually have magic to do that subject." He defended.

"Well, Neville," Harry started, "you're definitely _not_ 'all muggle', not even a little bit. You're just going to have to start at the beginning with the rest of the mundane raised. I propose that those of us who have been taught, pool our resources together to bring the rest up to speed."

The rest of the afternoon was spent in that vein. The learned teaching the unlearned the basics of magic. They started with potions, studying the basic ingredients and different preparation methods. As it turned out, there was a difference between chopped, diced, sliced, shredded and julienned potions ingredients, and each preparation effected the reaction in any given potion differently. As the afternoon wore on, they were intermittently joined by curious older years wondering what such a large group of inter-house first-years were doing whom Harry enthusiastically roped into teaching. Before they knew it, it was time for dinner and the twelve first years headed down to the Great Hall for dinner, chattering enthusiastically.

o 0 o

The rest of the week continued in the same vein: Classes with each house followed by a study/tutoring session in the library. The core twelve were always present, but were often joined by students from Gryffindor and Slytherin, although the two houses rarely interacted with each other.

One memorable session had found them joined by one Hermione Granger, she had eagerly participated in the discussion on the origins of magic, expatiating at length on what one book or another said on the subject until Terry stumped her with one question: "Yes, Granger, we know what the book says, but what do _you_ think? _Why_ is that the rule? In your own words."

Those two simple questions had left the verbose girl flushed and stammering. While she had not left the study session, she had not contributed to the debate further. Harry had no doubt that the girl was intelligent; he was fairly certain she had an eidetic memory like himself, but she had not developed the ability to think for herself. Harry found that unfortunate as he would have liked to have someone who was capable of debating obscure facts with him. She continued to attend the study sessions, but simply sat at the table and listened to the discussion around her or did her own work.

By the time that Friday came around, Harry was exhausted. Trying to facilitate bringing all his mundane raised classmates up to the level of knowledge and understanding that the purebloods were at—and that the teachers apparently expected them all to be at—was fatiguing. They were no where near, of course, but they were getting there. Harry was very much looking forward to flying lessons after lunch. It seemed like it had been ages since he was last on a broom.

o 0 o

Harry looked at his broom morosely. The Hogwarts brooms had certainly seen better days, he was certain that the brooms had not been updated since his parents, Sirius and Remus were in school—at the least. How, exactly, did the staff expect them to safely learn to fly on brooms that were older than the students? That had obviously not been cared for properly: the bristles were all stuck out at odd angles, which would definitely distort any flight attempt, and the handles were unpolished and felt as though the cushioning charm was almost worn off. Still, the broom jumped into his hand when he commanded it to.

Harry looked around, only about half of the class had successfully obtained their broom. Across from him, Mandy was looking sceptically at her broom that had only rolled over when she called it. "Mandy," Harry called, continuing when she looked up at him, "do you ride horses?" She nodded, "What's the first rule of horseback riding?"

"Never show fear," she answered, her eyes widening.

"I'm not sure if that applies here, but it might."

"Probably," Neville injected, from next to her glancing down at his equally stationary broom, "I have absolutely no desire to be up in the air, either."

"Well, then, why are you taking flying lessons?" Harry queried.

"It's part of the curriculum, mandatory." Neville answered.

"Well, if you don't want to fly, then don't. It's not the only method of travel. It's not even a creditable method of travel. It takes too long and has too high of a chance of discovery compared to apparation, floo and portkey."

Neville looked at him thoughtfully, then down at the broom and took one step back from the line of students. When Madame Hooch came over to ask why he had stepped back, Neville explained his disinclination to fly. Madame Hooch could not force him to fly and so let the matter drop. In the end, several of their classmates had joined Neville in staying on the ground.

Harry was right, though, the brooms were very unstable. Although he was a natural flyer, according to Sirius and Remus, he almost fell off his broom on more than one occasion due to the broom not responding to his commands. What had started off as excitement to get in the air ended as excitement to get his feet safely back on the ground. It was very lucky that no one had been seriously hurt, although the brooms had dumped Anthony and Ernie on one occasion each resulting in bruised egos and an adamant refusal to go back up on the subpar brooms.

Harry sighed, perhaps he could convince Cho Chang, a Ravenclaw second year, or Cedric Diggory, a Hufflepuff third year, both of whom had joined their 'library debates' on several occasions and who had their own brooms to allow him to borrow one so he could go on a proper fly over the weekend.

o 0 o

_A.N.: So, thoughts? My muse is not back in full force, but once I got started, the story seemed to write itself. There are definitely things in this chapter that I hadn't thought of until a moment before I wrote them... Does Harry get to go on a proper broom ride? Quidditch? Nutella cookies for the first ten reviewers. ;) I'm so amazed by the attention that my humble story is getting, thank you so much for reading, even if you don't review._


	17. Chapter 17

_Disclaimer: Standard._

_A.N.: Persnickety muse. I wanted to go further in this chapter. Honestly, it goes nowhere fast except in the area of character development... Next chapter will either be a check in with DD or finishing where I originally wanted this chapter to end... Not sure yet... I am going to attempt to write it on Friday, though... Because if I don't get it written by then, it will probably be 3 weeks till I have a chance to write again... Between work and my vacation and all that... Anyhow, here it is... Any suggestions will be considered..._

_Thanks to my awesome Beta, Aridethdar._

o 0 o

Saturday morning dawned crisp and clear. Harry was caught up with his homework, and the morning was to be spent exploring the castle with Draco and Morag. Harry rolled out his yoga mat and proceeded to begin his kata. When Harry completed his morning workout, he looked up to see Draco sitting cross-legged in the middle of his bed, watching him avidly.

"What, on earth is that, Harry?" Draco asked.

"That is a form of Japanese martial arts. I've been doing it since I was 5." Harry answered. At Draco's blank look, Harry continued, "Martial arts, you know, self defense and unarmed fighting techniques?"

"Why would you fight unarmed? Moreover, why would you _want_ to fight muggle style? Magic is far superior."

Harry snorted, "Careful, Draco, your inner snob is showing." He grinned, "Tell me, then, what happens when you lose your wand?"

"You don't lose your wand. It is unbecoming of a pure..." Draco faltered.

"You can finish the sentence, I've heard it before and while it may be unbecoming of a pureblood to allow himself to be disarmed that doesn't change the fact that it could happen. I'm eleven, I expect that I will be disarmed a fair few times before I'm good enough to avoid it. Even when I'm older and more experienced, there is always the possibility of coming across someone who is better than I am. Who am I to turn my nose up at any method of defending myself? If you—or any of our classmates, really—were disarmed you would likely be helpless because the only defense you have been taught is with a wand. I, on the other hand, know how to defend myself with my bare hands."

"Where did you learn to do it?"

"There was a dojo in the Embassy in Tokyo. Papa took me to work one day and I fell in love with it. Additionally, there was a boy in my daycare, Jun, who I watched practice every afternoon." Harry glanced out the window, it was getting late and he didn't want to miss breakfast. "Come on, let's go get breakfast. I want to talk to Cedric and see if he'll let me borrow his broom. I need a proper fly."

Fifteen minutes later, Harry was standing in front of the mirror, debating. He changed his hair to bright blue and cocked his head. No, that was far to blatant. He changed the majority of his hair back to his natural black, but left numerous streaks of the electric blue scattered throughout.

Twenty minutes later saw the Ravenclaw first year boys trooping down to the Great Hall. As they opened the doors to enter, they were met by an irate eagle owl. Draco paled as the owl landed on his shoulder and presented its package.

"Draco, you alright?" Harry asked.

"Yes." He muttered, "I have been waiting for my father to answer my letter for a few days now, at least it's not a howler. Although Mother has sent some sweets."

"Why on earth would he send a howler?" Harry queried lowly, "It's not like you're a Gryff."

Draco smiled, "True, and I'm certain my mother made sure that he considered that fact. But still, he expected me to be Slytherin, trained me for it from birth, practically."

Harry held Draco back a few paces, allowing Terry and Anthony to enter the Great Hall in front of them, "We're the most Slytherin of them all, Draco. No one will see us coming. I got a fair portion of that training too, remember. My mum was Slyth as well."

Draco grinned, "I suppose. And it is nice not to have to be completely emotionless at all times."

Harry laughed, "There is that. Come on, I want to eat and then see if we can borrow some brooms off the older years."

The morning flew by, although Harry had not been able to convince any of the older years to lend him their brooms, Cedric had convinced several upper years to come out to the pitch to teach the first years how to fly on proper brooms. Upon hearing that, Harry and Draco had been joined by Justin, Mandy, Hannah, Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas of Gryffindor and Blaise Zabini of Slytherin. When they all arrived on the quidditch pitch, Harry quickly realized that there were more first years than upper years with brooms. With that in mind, Harry trotted over to where the redhead twins were plotting something and roped them into the fray as well, bringing with them a fair portion of the Gryffindor quidditch team.

It was a much windblown group that entered the Great Hall for lunch that day. Half way through lunch, there was a rustle of wings and Hedwig entered the hall. Harry was a bit confused, the mail usually came by breakfast, but shrugged, pocketing the packet.

After lunch the Ravenclaw boys headed back to their dorm after arranging to meet the rest of their study group in the library in a few hours. Harry settled onto his bed, pulling out his letters. Draco did the same.

_Harry,_

_I know I don't actually need to tell you to stay away from whatever dangerous thing the Headmaster has seen fit to introduce to the school, but it makes me feel better to have said it. That covered, we have raised our concerns with the ministry in England. Unfortunately, we have apparently been stonewalled. The letter we received back addressed none of our questions, merely stated thanks for bringing the issue to the attention of the ministry and that our concern would be addressed in a timely manner. It was, quite obviously, a cookie-cutter letter, pre-written and automatically sent. I don't know if anyone even read the letter we sent._

_We are willing to wait a VERY short time to see if the ministry is indeed investigating our claim. I am going on the assumption that you are not the only student who expressed concerns to their parent and perhaps a child with more influential parents will owl the ministry as well. However, on the off chance that this does not happen, we are prepared to see if there is anything the French ministry can do. I don't know how this will all play out, but please be careful. Whatever you do, please, PLEASE don't do anything Gryffindor like go looking for trouble._

_Sirius is going nuts right now. He's insisting that Gryffs don't actually go looking for trouble. I'm fairly certain he's lying, he can't stop laughing._

_I'm glad you had a good trip to the school. Ravenclaw__ is a perfectly respectable house, and it's no less than we expected. Although the fact that Draco is there with you is quite surprising. Sirius is muttering about wolves in sheep's clothing, I'm sure you'll get the whole commentary as he's writing you at the moment, too. The rest of your housemates sound interesting, I know that you are not going to be best friends with everyone, but please don't alienate anyone? Even the most pompous can have their uses... Actually, the pompous tend to be the most useful._

_What about the students in the other houses of your year? You've had a whole week of classes, so I'm sure that you've at the least met them all once. How was the first week of classes?_

_We all look forward to hearing from you,_

_Love, your mum._

Harry sighed, he knew that the mystery of the forbidden corridor wouldn't reveal itself that easily, although he had no intention of going to the corridor himself. He had hoped that the other parents would be irate about an announcement such as Dumbledore had made at the opening feast. However, either none of the students had taken it seriously enough to complain to their parents, or the parents were so steeped in 'the Amazing Dumbledore' that they didn't question anything he did. Perhaps it was a combination of the two. He pulled out the next sheet, it was a letter from Sirius and Remus.

_Hey pup,_

_You're mum is covering all the serious stuff... Stop taking the quill, Moony. Sorry, pup. Anyhow, I'm devastated that you dismissed my explanation of the great hall so quickly. Honestly, I'm crying here. __He's really not, Harry.__ I am! See? The parchment is all blotchy with my tears._

_Anyway_, _how has your first week been? Did you get any exploring done? I wish we still had the Marauders Map to bequeath to you. The mischief you could cause..._

_I'm taking the quill now, until Sirius can stop being childish... How are classes? More to the point, how was class with Severus? What about your classmates?_

_Things around here are much the same, I've gone back to regular tutoring, although Sirius keeps trying to tell me that I should become a man of leisure... Quite honestly, I don't know if I could handle it. Doing nothing all day? I, on the other hand, am trying to get Sirius to do SOMETHING. He's considering going through auror training again, but I'm not sure if he will go through with it. He's still not back to 100%, but without you here to keep him entertained... Although Lizzy and Alex are filling some of the void, there are still times when Lizzy is at school and Alex is napping that I worry for your poor mum._

_Hey. That's enough commiserating over me. I'm fine, and I really AM considering what to do with myself now. Although, I'm leaning more towards a private detective. Your papa was telling me about them, and that sounds like something I'd like better than the rigorous structure and shitty hours of the auror corps._

_I'm sure your mum explained what we're trying to do as it pertains to the rather questionable actions of the headmaster, just please don't do anything stupid. Wait, what am I saying_? _You never do anyting stupid. Well, except for that one time when you tried to turn my hair green. That was stupid._

_Anyhow, keep us updated and we'll do the same._

_Love_

_Remus __& Sirius_

Harry snorted. The letter was so very much in character for his honorary uncles. Harry turned to the second to last of the letters, from Lizzy.

_Helo big broter,_

_How iz skool? I mis yu very much. Alex and me tuk pady for a wak last weke, he keeped trying to get of his leesh. I toled him to stop akting like a dog. He liked me. Rite on the fac! Skool is going gud for me. I'm lerning nu werds and I no all my leters. Mum is helping with sum werds._

_I love you!_

_Lizzy_

Harry smiled, although his heart ached at the things he was missing at home. He'd never been away from his family for more than two weeks at a time. There were so many things he was not going to see, so many of Alex's milestones he was not going to be there for. But that was part of growing up, and even if he had decided to attend a different school, he would still be gone during the school year. Harry picked up the last of the letters in the package.

_Dear Harry,_

_I'm sure that, as my letter is the last in the pile, you have already read your mother's letter and have been sufficiently admonished to keep your nose clean. I also know that it is highly unlikely that you need reminding. However, I feel the need to add my own admonition to the queue. Please be careful. From your letter, I don't know whether to laugh or not. The man is obviously senile or insane. Neither are a comforting possibility. I know that my worry is likely unnecessary, but you are my son and as such I reserve the right to unneeded worry. Your mother and uncles are trying to find out exactly what is going on at that school, but in the mean time, I pray that you leave the detective work to the adults. I do remember your curiosity streak._

_What kind of friends have you made thus far? Any potential for alliances? I know that you said you want to have allies throughout the houses. I do hope that being in Ravenclaw will facilitate this. I know from what your mum, Remus and Sirius have told me, that it will probably help rather than hinder your efforts. I am glad that you and Draco are in the same house, it can only help having an established friendship in such a new setting._

_How are your classes going? Did we do the right thing having Remus train you so far ahead of your classmates? I did worry, at the beginning, that doing so would keep you from being able to connect to your peers. I hope that this was another unneeded worry. I can't wait to hear of your experiences at school._

_All my love,_

_Papa_

Harry smiled, his papa had never been a terribly emotive or verbose man unless he was at the negotiation table, but he had endeavored to teach Harry all he could about the intricacies of politics. He had also taught Harry from a young age—simply by watching him—the art of subtle manipulation and how to insult without actually doing so. His mother had reinforced these lessons, but he had observed them first at the dinner parties his father held throughout his childhood.

Harry looked over at Draco. He was sitting on his bed, a box of chocolates open beside him. Draco, however, was neither eating the chocolates nor reading the letter; he was simply staring at it with a confused look on his face.

"Draco," Harry called. Draco looked up at him, "what did your father have to say?"

Draco looked down at the letter again, "He said that Ravenclaw was an honorable house and if I wasn't fit for Slytherin, then at least I had the brains not to try to be. I'm not actually certain if he meant that as a compliment or an insult. He also said that my Ravenclaw was showing in my friendship with you. I'm not sure if he understood the part that we'd been friends for two years. He said that if I couldn't be near true power then at least I was able to attach myself to the next best thing." Draco glanced up, "That, I'm certain, was an insult. To both of us."

Harry shrugged, "It's not, really. It's more a testament of his willful blindness to anything not Slytherin." Harry tilted his head arrogantly, "It's obvious to anyone who has met me that I am 'next best' to nothing and no one." He watched Draco out of the corner of his eye, his antics had the desired effect as Draco dissolved into laughter. "Now, enough of this. Let's go explore the castle."

o 0 o

Wednesday mornings rolled around far too early, in Harry's opinion. Whatever idiot decided it was necessary to be up in the middle of the night simply to study the stars was obviously pureblood. The mundanes had methods to project the night sky indoors at observatories around the world, the technology had existed for years. Surely there was a way to magically adapt the technology to preserve the sleep patterns of growing children.

Truly, it wouldn't be so bad, Harry mused, except that the first class of the morning following Astronomy was the least interactive class of the year. History of Magic—as it was taught by one ghostly Professor Binns—was Harry's least favorite class. The ghost's monotone voice was enough to send even the most studious of the Ravenclaws into a stupor. Well, obviously not all of them, Harry thought wryly as he caught sight of one Hermione Granger taking copious notes on the banausic lecture.

Harry wondered if the professor would notice if the class just quit attending one day, or if he would simply lecture to an empty classroom. The rumor was that the man had simply not noticed that he was dead. Personally, Harry thought that was unlikely, as the ghost had entered the classroom through the blackboard.

History had been one of his favorite subjects, as taught by Remus, prior to coming to Hogwarts. He wondered if the ministry tests would only cover the areas taught by—or more accurately, recited by—the apparition (in other words, the goblin wars and nothing but), or if they would encompass a wider domain. Harry sighed, just one more thing to add to the list of things to study in group.

Transfiguration that afternoon was interesting. The first day of class Professor McGonnagall had reinforced—or in the case of the mundane born, introduced—the theory behind the subject. Today was to be spent in the application of that theory. The students filed into the classroom quietly. In this particular classroom students sat three to a desk. Harry glanced around before setting his sights on the empty seat next to Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas. He didn't really have any acquaintances in his year within the house of the lions yet, and decided it was time to rectify that oversight. Draco and Morag sat at the desk behind them and had been joined by Layla Moon.

"Hey," Harry said, motioning to the empty seat, "mind if I join you?"

Seamus glanced up at Harry and shrugged, "Help yourself, mate."

Harry nodded his thanks and collapsed into the seat.

"That was the most horrid form of torture I think I have ever endured." Dean said, "MI6 should hire him, they'd have anyone singing just to make him quit!"

Harry looked askance at the black boy, "Who?"

"Binns."

Harry snorted and opened his mouth to reply when Professor McGonnagall entered the classroom. Harry promptly shut his mouth and faced the front of the classroom.

The lesson of the day was turning a match into a needle, something Harry was able to do instantly. He waited for at least half an hour, however, before he proffered his dull silvery-brown needle to the professor, earning Ravenclaw 10 points.

Next to him, Seamus was pointing and muttering at his match which started to smoke. His muttering got a little more frantic and the match suddenly erupted in flames. This startled the boy so much that he yelped and set his sleeve alight. Harry chuckled lightly and smothered the whole thing with the hem of his robes.

Seamus ducked his head, "Thanks mate. Not exactly sure how that happened."

Across the classroom Hermione Granger's voice rose above the general murmur of voices, "...visualize it, Ronald."

Seamus followed Harry's glance over to the voice. Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley were seated together. Hermione was obviously attempting to 'help' the red head, whereas the boy was just as obviously NOT thankful for said 'help.'

Seamus rolled his eyes, "I don't know what she is doing. He obviously doesn't appreciate her brand of assistance."

Harry nodded, "She just as obviously doesn't understand that he doesn't want her help."

"He's always ranting about her in the dorm." Dean added, "It's quite frustrating. All he wants to do is rant or play chess. There's really nowhere to get homework done in Gryffindor Tower."

"Why haven't you two joined our study group?" Harry asked curiously.

Seamus shrugged, "Weren't invited."

Harry stared at the boy for a moment, "No invitation necessary. We're just a group of first years who tend to study in the same place at the same time. Although if you do join us, know that there are Slytherins who come as well. I know that traditionally your two houses don't get along, but know that if you start trouble you will be asked to leave."

Dean shrugged, "I'm used to prejudice by this time, I just let it slide. Idiots aren't worth my time, nor my frustration."

Harry looked at Seamus who shrugged, "I'm capable of controlling myself. Although I don't know how much abuse I will take before I snap back, but I won't start anything."

Harry nodded, "Don't worry, the same rule goes for the Slytherins. They are aware."

o 0 o

_A.N.: Well, that's all I can squeeze out of my muse for today... stubborn thing, she is._


	18. Chapter 18

_A.N. Um... HI! So sorry for the wait, my only excuse is that I was working seven days a week and then it was Thanksgiving... I think I need to fire my muse and find a new one... Anyhow, it's not long but it's a start..._

o 0 o

The first month of school had flown by on Phoenix wings, it seemed. Harry kept himself busy with homework and the study group. The study groups attendance had swelled, with fully half of the first years routinely attending. They had first focused on Potions, as Professor Snape's guidance left much to be desired. Finally, everyone in the group could recite the uses of the basic potions ingredients from memory and all were able to prepare said ingredients with at least minimal proficiency.

Harry glanced around the classroom, today they were making a basic bruise paste. The study group had reviewed this particular potion last night in preparation for this lesson. He was pleased to note that almost all of the students had parchment and quill out and were making notes as they added ingredients to their cauldrons. He was also pleased to note that there were no indications of an imminent explosion.

Harry checked his watch, thirty more seconds before he had to perform two figure-eight stirs and add in three drams of beetle juice. His potion was currently the correct electric purple described in the text, although it would change to a deep cerulean blue when it was finished.

Harry checked his watch again and picked up his stirring rod. As he completed the second stir he poured the beetle juice into his cauldron. His mixture faded slowly from the electric purple it had been to a light cerulean blue. Harry noted the change in his notebook and doused the flames under his cauldron to allow the finished mixture to cool. Perhaps he had stirred too vigorously, the paste would still be effective, but was not as potent as it could have been.

"Professor Snape?" Draco called quietly.

There were few students who would intentionally court their dour professors attention. Draco was one of the few who would. The black-clad professor swept through the classroom, coming to a rest at the corner of Draco's desk.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" The man bit out.

"I was wondering if you could tell me what I did wrong? My potion was the described purple..."

"Of course I can tell you what you did wrong, boy." The professor interrupted, "You used the White Oak stirring rod instead of the Birch one. Pay attention to your supplies, Mr. Malfoy." The man continued snidely, with barely a glance at the boy's sky blue potion.

o 0 o

It was a chilly Saturday morning when Harry approached Cedric, as he had every Saturday morning for the last month, "Oi, Cedric!" Harry grinned as he squeezed his way to sit on the bench next to the Hufflepuff, "Ready to lend me that broom yet?"

Cedric rolled his eyes at the first-year Ravenclaw, "What exactly do you plan to do with my broom, Harry?"

Harry grinned, this was a deviance from the usual flat 'no' that the older boy had given him for the last four weeks, "I plan to ask Cho to borrow hers as well and challenge Draco to a seeker's duel."

Cedric raised his eyebrow, "Are you any good?"

Harry smiled impishly, "Yep."

Cedric snorted, "And modest, too." The older boy sighed, "Very well, scamp. If Cho will lend hers as well, you may borrow mine. But I'm not letting you out of my sight!"

Harry cheered, "I'm not going to hurt your broom, Cedric. Don't you worry." Harry jumped out of the press of Hufflepuffs and darted over to where Cho was sitting at the Ravenclaw table, a pleading look on his face. "Cho..."

Cho held up her hand, "Fine, Harry. But same rules as Cedric."

Harry grinned, "Thanks! Now, I've got to find Draco."

It took Harry less than ten minutes to find the blond, he was sitting on his bed contemplating his latest letter to his parents. Harry burst into the room, quickly collected himself and announced in a pompous voice, "Draco Malfoy, I hereby challenge you to a seekers duel, to take place right now. Come, let's settle this between us."

Draco glanced up, "Accepted." He answered, just as gravely, "But how, exactly are we going to chase the snitch? We don't have brooms."

Harry smirked, "Cedric and Cho have graciously allowed us to borrow theirs."

Draco nodded, "Well, since you issued the challenge and time, I claim the right to choose which broom I will be riding. I want Cedric's Nimbus 2000."

Harry nodded, "That's fine, I'll still beat you on Cho's Cleansweep 990." Harry grabbed his practice snitch out of his trunk and the two boys headed back down to the quidditch pitch.

Harry glanced around the pitch, Cho and Cedric were waiting in the middle for he and Draco, but there were spectators scattered throughout the stands. Almost all the first years were in attendance, which was not entirely unexpected. However, the scattered upper years and professors were. "I didn't realize this was going to be a school event." Harry commented, wryly.

Cedric looked down at Harry, "Um, Harry, you do realize that anything you do is going to be speculated over and watched?"

Harry sighed, "Yeah, yeah. I know, boy-who-Lived and all that rot. Oh, well. Cedric, since I challenged Draco, he gets dibs on the brooms, and he has chosen to use yours."

Cedric nodded and handed Draco his broom. "Snitch?" Harry pulled his snitch out of his pocket and released it, "Good, now," Cedric added in a stern tone, "I want a good clean match."

Draco grinned, "Not a problem. Cho, you want to count us down?"

Cho smiled and handed her broom to Harry, "Ok, you two. Kick off in three... two... one... go!"

Both boys darted up into the sky.

Harry careered across the pitch, Draco in hot pursuit. The two boys had been chasing around the pitch for almost three quarters of an hour. He hadn't seen the snitch in the last twenty minutes or so, but had taken numerous opportunities to fake Draco out. Draco had returned the favor several times as well.

The weather had started taking a turn for the worse in the last five minutes and Harry decided if one of them hadn't gotten the snitch in the next twenty minutes they might have to postpone their duel. The weather had thinned out the spectators as well. All that remained were a handful of 'Claws, a duo of redheads, Cho and Cedric, the four heads of house and professor Quirrell, all clustered together in the covered area of the stands.

Suddenly, two things happened at once, Harry spotted the snitch and his broom bucked. Harry gripped his broom tighter, twined his legs around the tail and dove towards the snitch. His broom dropped a meter, then it darted to the left and back to the right. Harry thought, distantly, that he felt like he was riding one of those mechanical bulls he had seen in a mall in San Diego last Christmas.

Harry heard yelling and noted that the twins were pushing through the crowd in the stands to get to the pitch. He pulled hard on the handle of the broom and gained a little control of the broomstick. He glanced around and noted that the snitch was still at the far end of the pitch by the ground still unseen by Draco. He pointed the obstinate broom in that direction and took off again, this time at a less steep angle. The broom pitched once more before he felt the resistance stop. He glanced down again, the red-headed twins were now levitating large pink fluffy pillows under where he was flying, presumably to catch him if he fell.

Harry grinned down at them, glanced over his shoulder at Draco who was watching him with concern and shouted, "Draco, that snitch is mine!" He shot off after the elusive golden ball, with Draco at his heel. Harry reached out to grasp the snitch, letting out a whoop of triumph as Draco's hand closed over his own.

Draco grumbled good-naturedly as the two set down and were immediately descended upon by their head of house.

"Mr. Potter-Grey, whose broomstick is that?" Professor Flitwick enquired.

"It's mine, professor." Cho said quietly.

"What happened up there?"

"I'm not sure professor, for just a moment it felt like someone was cursing the broom, then it stopped." Harry answered.

The professor nodded holding his hand out for the broom in question, "Were you injured?"

"No, sir."

"Very well, I do believe we should be returning indoors. Miss Chang, I need to examine this broom. I will return it to you before the next quidditch practice." Professor Flitwick glanced over at the two redheads who were hovering by the edge of the pitch, "Twenty points to Gryffindor for creativity and quick thinking."

o 0 o

_A.N. Grrr. I wanted to get to Halloween with this chapter, but at the current moment, I can only think of content for a paragraph or two, and I don't want to write shite... Too frequently, that is... Oh, well. Hopefully I can give this damn fastidious, overparticular, vexing muse a kick in her posterior and get a chapter in the next week... hopefully one that is good and has a point... Oh, in case anyone didn't get the inference, the twins accidentally busted up Q's concentration when they pushed through the crowd to 'save' Harry._


End file.
